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44 


The huge beast passed them within what seemed to be less 

than a yard ” 


(See page 222 ) 




ADVENTURES IN 
BEAVER STREAM CAMP 

Lost in the Northern JVilds 

by 

Captain ht RADCLYFFE DUGMORE 

F. R. G. S., F. R. P. S. 

Author of “ Bird Homes" “ Camera Adventures in the 
African Wilds," “ Romance of the Caribou ," 

“ Romance of the Beaver" “When 
the Somme Ran Red," Etc. 



Illustrated with Photographs and Drawings by the 
Author , and four Drawings by Philip Goodwin 


Garden Citv New York 

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 

1918 



COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY 
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF 
TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, 
INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN 


OCT -3 1918 

Q 


Cl. A 506 103 


THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 
WITH AFFECTION TO MY THREE KIDDIES, 

E , J AND B , 

WHO BY THEIR CRITICISMS AND SUGGES- 
TIONS RENDERED ME VALUABLE 
ASSISTANCE AND MADE MY 
WORK A PLEASURE 


CONTENTS 

PART I 

A FISHING TRIP TO NEWFOUNDLAND 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. They prepare for a trip to Newfoundland 3 

II. They reach Newfoundland, make camp, 

and get some fishing 20 

III. They try salmon fishing and have good 

luck. They also learn things ... 39 

IV. They go for a trip inland — get some good 

trout fishing, see caribou and beaver, 
and learn some more things. ... 55 

V. They have an interesting experience with 
bear. Catch more fish. Return to 
camp and learn a great many more 
things, and the holiday ends. They are 
back in Boston 81 

PART II 

GETTING LOST IN THE WILDS 

VI. They go tuna fishing and the launch 
breaks down. A big storm comes. 

They see whales and are wrecked . . 107 

VII. They find themselves alone in a strange 
land. A camp is made and they make 
their first fire by rubbing sticks. . . 126 

vii] 


CONTENTS 


PAGB 


viii 

CHAPTER 

VIII. They shoot a hare and some salmon with 
bows and arrows, and learn to live off 
the country 145 

IX. They find the tuna. Do experimental 
cooking. Find edible roots, get a duck- 
ing, shoot a large salmon, take a trip 
inland, shoot a stag and some ptarmigan 165 

X. They find caribou roads, a natural ice 
house. An Indian flint pile. Return 
to river camp. Make plans for the 
winter. Discover beaver ponds and 
dams and decide to make use of the 
beaver’s wood-cutting. Select site for 
their winter hut, and collect material 
for building 187 

XI. They build their winter house on Beaver 
Stream. See a vessel which does not 
see them. Shoot their second caribou. 

Find freshwater pearls and shoot a 
big bear 205 

XII. They tan the bear skin. Get more pearls, 
berries and fire-wood. See some beaver 
work. A weasel supplies them with their 
dinner. They get their harvest of roots. 

Move to Beaver Stream Camp. Collect 
acorns. Try caribou moss for food and 
make snow-shoes 226 

XIII. They go caribou hunting. See a great stag 
fight. Are attacked by one of the fight- 
ing stags. Have narrow escape. Get a 
caribou and use the skin for snow-shoes. 

The first snow comes, also the migra- 
tion of caribou 250 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

XIV. They take advantage of the caribou mi- 
gration to secure their winter’s supply 
of meat. Bad weather sets in. They 
make caribou skin clothing and better 
snow-shoes. See many animal tracks in 
the snow. Find that some animals and 
ptarmigan have turned white to match 
the snow. They set snares for lynx and 
catch one. Have serious encounter with 
it. A blizzard. The Aurora Borealis. 
They make furniture. Christmas comes 
and they surprise each other. Have 
elaborate Christmas dinner 

XV. They go for a long trip inland. See a silver 
fox. Get caught in a terrible blizzard. 
Find a trapper’s hut in which is the skele- 
ton of the owner. Get supply of flour 
and other luxuries. Find valuable skins. 
The blizzard ends so they make their 
way back to Beaver Stream Camp. They 
trap silver foxes. Spring comes. They 
see young beaver. Find where the 
gulls have nests. Make a boat and 
collect eggs. Are capsized in pond. 
Make preparations for another winter. 
Move camp to coast. A big storm 
comes 

XVI. The wreck of the English barque North- 
ern Star . They help to save the crew. 
The return to civilization. Home 
again 


ix 

PAGE 


269 


290 


317 



I 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


LIST OF DRAWINGS 

“The huge beast passed them within what seemed 

to be less than a yard!” .... Frontispiece 
( See page 222) 

FACING PACE 

“The stag crashed with full weight against the tree. 

It was a close shave, but Jack was safe” . . 230 \ 

“Their presence infuriated the animal still more, 

and it made a sudden spring at Jack” . . 278 * 

“Progress became slower and slower, more pain- 
ful and more laboured” 310 * 

LIST OF HALF-TONES 

A Newfoundland caribou 54 ^ 

Caribou: doe and fawn 214 > 

Group of Newfoundland caribou . . . ' . 246 ^ 

Herd of caribou in Newfoundland, during the mi- 
gration, led as usual by a doe 262 

The birch bark menu ” 294 • 

LIST OF LINE CUTS IN THE TEXT 

PAGE 

Crooked knife 100 

Map of the country in which the two boys lived 167 
Beaver Stream Camp 207 














PART I 


A FISHING TRIP TO NEWFOUNDLAND 
WHICH RESULTED IN LEARNING 
MANY THINGS THAT PROVED OF 
GREAT VALUE LATER ON 
































































































• • 


















































































- 



























ADVENTURES IN 
BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


CHAPTER I 

THEY PREPARE FOR A TRIP TO NEWFOUNDLAND 



HARLIE MASON was sitting in his room 


reading a letter from a friend who had 


gone into the Canadian woods for a fish- 


ing trip; with mixed feelings of pleasure and envy 
he was hearing of some extra large trout that had 
been caught, when the door was thrown open and 
in rushed Jack Sylvester wildly excited. 

“We are going to Newfoundland, Charlie, ” 
he fairly shouted. “Going with Dad in less than 
two weeks, for salmon and the biggest trout you 
ever heard of; Mother and Evelyn are going, too, 
and Mr. Pratt; isn’t it fine?” 

“Are you fooling, or is it really true?” said 
Charlie, with suppressed excitement. 

“Yes, honour bright. Dad just told me that 
he had long been thinking of it, but was afraid 
to say anything for fear that he would not be able 


4 


ADVENTURES IN 


to get away, for you know how frightfully busy 
he has been lately; but fortunately things have 
been settled now and he will be able to get away 
next week, so unless something unexpected happens 
we shall be able to stay away for six weeks. Won’t 
it be great?” 

So it was really coming, the long-talked-of 
and much-longed-for trip to the real wild rivers of 
Newfoundland where one could fish for salmon, 
and camp on the banks of the pools free from all 
interference and out of sight of everyone. For 
two years this plan had been hanging fire; it had 
been the subject of endless talks during the long 
winter evenings as they sat in the big living room 
before the lights were lit, watching the glowing 
hickory logs. They had heard and read so much 
about Newfoundland. Mr. Pratt, who was Jack’s 
father’s greatest friend, had been there and his 
descriptions had seemed like tales of a veritable 
happy hunting ground. There were stories of 
great salmon and raging rivers with trout so big 
and numerous that one could catch as many as one 
wanted, and accounts of immense herds of beau- 
tiful caribou that trekked across the Island twice 
every year, of ptarmigan that ran under one’s feet, 
of great arctic hares, of beaver colonies, and these 
stories had fascinated the boys and filled them and 
their father with a longing to taste such joys. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


5 

Only last year they had practically decided to 
go when Mrs. Sylvester had been taken ill and 
Mr. Sylvester found it impossible to get away, and 
so they had gone with an aunt and uncle to a quiet 
place in the Adirondacks and had enjoyed some 
inferior trout fishing in the company of some very 
inferior and much-spoilt guides. However, it 
had been better than nothing and certainly far 
better than going to the seashore with the crowds 
of other white-flannelled boys and over-dressed 
girls. At least they had been able to wear mocca- 
sins and go through beautiful wild forests and see 
occasional deer and other wild creatures. They 
had enjoyed it all, but felt that it left much to be 
desired. Now their hopes were to be realized 
and Charlie, in exuberance of spirits, promptly 
jumped up and knocked Jack head over heels, 
capsized a couple of chairs and a table, thereby 
smashing a large flower vase much to his disgust, 
for at that moment footsteps were heard coming 
upstairs and, before they could barricade the door, 
Mrs. Sylvester entered. 

Her cheerful smile changed to a look almost of 
anger, but before she could say a word, Charlie 
had his arms round her neck and was begging for- 
giveness. He had been so happy that he had not 
known what he was doing, and she did the only 
thing to be done under the circumstances, forgave 


6 ADVENTURES IN 

him with a slight and very feeble attempt at a 
scolding. 

“We are really going to Newfoundland, aren’t 
we, Aunt Mary?” he asked, and she, as glad and 
happy as the boys themselves, said that the good 
news was quite true, and that they would all start 
in ten or twelve days. 

“Now, boys,” she added, “I am going out with 
Evelyn to order some clothes; do you want to 
come or would you prefer to make out your list 
of what will be necessary? Then this evening we 
shall be able to go over it with Dad and see just 
what will be needed. Here are some catalogues 
for you to look over.” 

The boys decided to stay at home and make 
their lists, so Mrs. Sylvester and Evelyn went to- 
gether. During the whole afternoon the boys read 
alluring descriptions of all sorts of impossible camp 
outfits and of wonderful rods and tackle boxes, 
and their lists grew to alarming proportions. 
Nearly every fly seemed absolutely necessary, 
both for salmon and trout, and when it was time 
for Mr. Sylvester to return they had covered 
many sheets of paper with the names and prices 
of things they needed. 

Shortly after five o’clock Jack heard his father 
come in and they both rushed downstairs to find 
out whether anjrthing new had happened and 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


7 

whether they really were going. Mr. Sylvester 
greeted the boys in his usual hearty way; evidently 
the prospect was just as pleasant to him as to the 
younger members of the family. 

“It’s all settled, boys, and Mr. Pratt will be 
here in a few minutes, and so will your mother and 
Evelyn, and we will go over the list of what is 
necessary to take.” 

“We have made out our list,” cried Jack. 

“Oh, yes, indeed, I can well see it, and I think 
we shall have enough paper to re-paper the dining 
room if we use those same lists, though we should 
have to do it ourselves if we bought all those 
things. Great Caesar! How much do you think 
I intend to spend on you young rascals, and how 
many boats do you calculate will be necessary 
to carry all that outfit? Any one would think 
we were going on a five-year trip instead of five 
or six weeks. No, no; we must start all over 
again, so come along into the living room. Ah, 
yes, here come the others, now we can all get to 
work.” 

Mrs. Sylvester, Evelyn, and Mr. Pratt all came 
in and the whole party, as jolly as a lot of school- 
boys getting ready to leave school, settled them- 
selves in the living room with paper and pencils 
and numerous catalogues of fishing material, camp 
outfits, etc. ' 


8 


ADVENTURES IN 


While they are looking over the profusely il- 
lustrated pages, let us see who they are. 

Mr. Sylvester was an Englishman who had come 
over to America fifteen years previously and had 
married soon after arriving, having met his wife 
on the steamer coming over. He was the head of 
a big banking concern, a man who for years had 
worked hard and who took his annual holiday of a 
month or so with his family in some fishing coun- 
try. He was a big, jolly fellow, always full of 
fun, who preferred fishing to any sport on earth. 
His wife had exactly the same tastes and loved to 
get away from the exactions of social life. For 
her the wild woods and streams spelt complete 
happiness and contentment, to be alone with her 
family on a fishing trip was all that she asked for. 
No amount of roughing it daunted her or ruffled 
her happy disposition. Their only son Jack, aged 
thirteen, was a good type of healthy boy, fair 
haired, with bright blue eyes, a full-lipped mouth 
that was always smiling in a jolly sort of way, and 
showed a lighter side of his character, which, con- 
tradicted to some extent by the squareness of his 
jaw, showed a remarkable degree of firmness and 
determination. His well-shaped face was some- 
what disfigured by the presence of a scar on his 
nose which was the result of an accident when he 
was eight years old. For his age he was somewhat 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 9 

short, but of sturdy build. He was passionately 
fond of outdoor sports, especially shooting, and al- 
ways keen to do whatever was proposed. His sis- 
ter Evelyn, who was nearly two years younger, 
joined with the boys in all their outdoor amuse- 
ments, but her disposition was entirely different 
from her brother’s. She was very quiet, even re- 
served, and her whole idea was to help everyone, 
never showing the slightest evidence of selfishness. 

Charlie Mason was the son of two of the Syl- 
vesters’ greatest friends. His mother had died 
while the boy was very young so that he scarcely 
remembered her. A few years later the father 
had been killed in a railway accident. Charlie, 
who was now fourteen years old, was taken in- 
to the Sylvesters’ home and treated exactly as 
if he had been their own child, and though in 
no way related he always called them aunt and 
uncle, and was more devoted to them than most 
children are to their parents. For his age he was 
fairly tall and well built, a handsome boy with 
clear-cut features, rich brown hair, and deep-set 
dark blue eyes which had a delightfully merry 
twinkle that was characteristic of his sunny na- 
ture. His mouth was firm and very sensitive and 
had a curious habit of changing very suddenly 
from the happiest of smiles to an almost mourn- 
ful seriousness. Above the brow the forehead 


ADVENTURES IN 


io 

was well developed, which showed him to be pos- 
sessed of acute power of observation. By nature 
the boy was extremely affectionate, very thoughtful 
of others and somewhat shy. Nothing interested 
him in the way of sport so much as fishing, while 
his moderate fondness for shooting was coupled 
always with a dislike for the actual killing of any 
warm-blooded creature, unusual in so healthy a 
boy in whom the savage instinct is apt to be very 
strong. Charlie’s love for natural history, espe- 
cially the study of bird life, accounted for the dis- 
taste for killing, as it is impossible to come into 
intimate contact with either animals or birds 
without developing an affectionate understanding 
toward them, and this is almost bound to over- 
come the thirst for blood. It always seemed to 
him a pity to kill anything unless it was required 
for food. His love of natural history was so great 
that he collected every book he could on the sub- 
ject and his room was literally papered with 
pictures of birds and animals. 

Fred Pratt was a very close friend of the Sylves- 
ters and, like them, he was extremely fond of all 
outdoor sports in the wilds. He had travelled a 
great deal and had been able to gratify his tastes 
by hunting in Africa and India, and in most parts 
of North America. Of late years he had devoted 
most of his leisure time to fishing for, as he said, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


ii 


he had killed more than his share of game and 
anyhow he preferred fishing. His wife, who was 
very delicate, never went with him on any of his 
trips. Therefore none of his three children, Bes- 
sie, Dorothy, and Fred, was able to go. 

So much for the party now assembled in the 
cozy living room. 

Mr. Sylvester handed the boys’ list to Mr. 
Pratt with a twinkle in his eye. “Well, Fred, 
how’s that for a beginning ?” 

“A beginning! Well, I should smile! They 
seem to think we are going to start a full-size store 
instead of going on a modest little five-weeks’ 
trip. Let me see: salmon flies, twenty-two pat- 
terns, four sizes of each and two dozen of each 
size; that’s 2,112 flies, which at an average price of 
about forty cents will amount to jolly near nine 
hundred dollars. If I am not mistaken you expect 
to use somewhere about a dozen and a half flies 
per day for each of us; for I suppose this list is 
for the whole party?” 

Then he laughed heartily and added: “No, 
boys, you remind me of a friend who went with 
me to Africa for a three-months’ shoot. He 
wanted to take ten thousand rifle cartridges 
with him and was somewhat surprised when I 
pointed out that he could scarcely expect to fire 
a hundred and eleven shots per day during 


12 


ADVENTURES IN 


the three months we counted on being out. The 
first time I went off for salmon I was young and 
money was scarce. Each fly represented what 
to me was a lot of money, so serious thought was 
given to each. Finally two dozen flies made up 
my list and though I was away for one month I 
found I had seven left on my return. So you see 
we must start with the axe and chop your list down 
near the stump. First of all, only a few patterns of 
flies are necessary.” And he made out a very 
moderate list of all that would be required of both 
salmon and trout flies. The fishing tackle was 
soon disposed of, including grilse rods for the 
youngsters and salmon rods for the adults as 
well as a few trout rods. All items were practical 
and no unnecessary money spent. Sleeping bags 
they all had, with good, stout, waterproof canvas 
ground sheets, for the nights in Newfoundland 
would probably be cold and the ground is apt to be 
damp. A couple of sets of aluminium cooking out- 
fits were necessary in case the party separated. 
In the way of tents they were provided with two 
very light ones that would do for the grown-ups. 
So they only had to order two very small ones of 
special light cotton for the youngsters. Mrs. 
Sylvester suggested the waterproof silk tents, but 
gave up the idea when told how dangerous they 
were in case of fire. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


13 

For clothing, any old suitable stuff would do. 
Plenty of socks, wading boots, and high water-proof 
moccasins. 

By the time dinner was ready the list of outfit 
was completed, and though the boys were greatly 
disappointed at seeing all their pet discoveries in 
the way of patent this and patent that thrown out 
as useless, they could not help admiring Mr. 
Pratt’s business-like simplicity of outfit. As he 
said: 

“It is just as well to make three piles: one of 
absolute necessities, one of things that you think 
ought to go, and one of what might be needed. 
Take number one and carefully lock up the other 
two piles and lose the key. Even then you will 
find that you have twice as much as will be really 
needed.” 

After dinner the question of food was discussed, 
and soon settled. Most of it they could get in 
Newfoundland, by sending the order ahead and 
having it packed and ready to be put on board the 
steamer which would take them from Bay of 
Islands northward. Special luxuries could be 
easily taken with them. Each boy begged to be 
allowed to take his own axe and suggested taking 
harpoons so that they could go after seals. But 
they were told that sealing was permissible only 
in the cold weather of winter or very early spring. 


I 4 


ADVENTURES IN 


Evelyn and the boys were sent off to bed as 
soon as the lists had been completed, while the 
older members wrote for their guides and sent off 
the order for food supplies. It was decided that 
next day they should all go together to buy the 
outfit, for that would be part of the fun. So Mr. 
Pratt left them with the promise of calling again 
soon after breakfast the following morning. 

In the meantime, the boys were in bed talking 
over the prospects, planning the catching of giant 
salmon, and enjoying what is only too often the 
best part of a trip, the anticipation. In one’s 
plans nothing goes wrong, the weather is always 
perfect, the blackflies don’t bite because you anoint 
yourselves with an unfailing preventive; the fish 
do bite because you have just the right flies as 
bait; in fact, everything goes well. 

Gradually the boys’ voices grew drowsy and 
soon ceased altogether as they drifted off into the 
happy land of dreams. 

The hot summer sun was streaming through 
their windows when they awoke to renew the 
conversation of the previous night. New ideas 
came to them with the day, and they were chatter- 
ing away like a pair of magpies when Jack’s father 
came into the room and told them that they were 
all going out together at nine o’clock to buy the 
outfit. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


*5 

Evelyn, standing behind her father, called out: 
“You lazy fellows, come along, it's nearly break- 
fast time. Get up and hurry or you will be 
late.” 

No further urging was needed. The two were 
soon up and dressed and ready for breakfast, but 
they were too excited to bother with eating. 
Long before nine they were ready and waiting and 
it seemed as though Mr. Pratt would never come. 
However, he finally arrived to be greeted by the 
youngsters with an overwhelming number of 
questions. 

“Come along now, and let’s buy the things, in- 
cluding your million or two of flies,” he said, as he 
shoved them all out of the front door. “Never 
mind the talking, we shall have plenty of time for 
that in the train after we start northward.” 

The day’s shopping was a huge success. The 
boys insisted on carrying innumerable packages 
so that they would not have to wait to see the 
contents after their return home. Tired, but 
supremely happy, they got back about five o’clock 
and forthwith the parcels were torn open and the 
brilliant array of flies were spread out to be ad- 
mired. The rods had to be assembled and tested 
as to balance and weight, and each one had to be 
carefully marked with its owner’s name. Lines 
were wound on the reels; in fact, everything that 


i6 


ADVENTURES IN 


could be done was done as though they were ex- 
pecting to start the following day. 

About dinner time a large bundle arrived con- 
taining the tents and cooking outfit, and it was all 
Mrs. Sylvester could do to prevent the boys put- 
ting up the tents in the room. As it was raining 
hard they had to wait until the next day before 
they could have the satisfaction of trying them. 
But almost as soon as the sun was up, Evelyn and 
the boys were out in the garden busy pitching the 
small tents; they even had carried out the sleep- 
ing bags to make sure that they would fit prop- 
erly. Evelyn’s tent was only six feet long and 
four feet wide, and unless the flap was up she 
could not quite stand up in it. But when closed 
it was delightfully cozy and thoroughly appealed 
to her idea of comfort. 

“Let’s ask Dad if we may sleep out here to- 
night?” she cried to the boys. 

“Oh, yes, that would be fun,” said Jack. 

At that moment they caught sight of Mrs. 
Sylvester looking out of the window and immedi- 
ately they asked if they might be allowed to sleep 
*in their tents. 

“Of course you may,” she said. “Only be sure 
you put them up securely so that in case of a 
thunder-storm they won’t blow down.” 

“Don’t you worry, Mother, we’ll see to that, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


i7 

we can easily get some decent poles from the 
gardener.” 

And forthwith all three marched off to where 
the old gardener was working. Charlie was 
spokesman, for he and old James were great 
pals. 

“James,” he said, “we want some poles for our 
tents. Six will do and they must be about six feet 
long. Can you help us ? ” 

“I’ll find you some if you loikes, but you must 
promise to give ’em back to me when you’re 
through, for I needs ’em bad.” 

Of course the promise was given immediately 
and the old man took them over to a shed and soon 
fitted them out with all they needed, and they 
returned joyfully to start putting up the tents 
securely. Just then breakfast was announced, 
and not very willingly they bolted indoors. After 
the meal was finished Mr. Sylvester went out and 
showed the boys where they could pitch their 
tents, and he left them very happily engaged in 
making a miniature camp in the little birch grove 
near the house. They were even allowed to build a 
fire and cook their own lunch. Potatoes, bacon, 
and slapjacks were decided on as forming a most 
appropriate meal. At Mrs. Sylvester’s sugges- 
tion, the batter for the slapjacks was mixed by 
the cook, which, all things considered, was just as 


is 


ADVENTURES IN 


well. Of course the fire did far more smoking 
than burning, amateurs’ fires always do, but in 
spite of inflamed eyes and smutty faces and food, 
the meal was voted a great success. It was just 
as well that they were not in any very great 
hurry, for the frying of the slapjacks was a lengthy 
operation. The grease in the pan would insist on 
catching fire, so that, when they put the batter in, 
it stuck hard and fast and had to be chipped off in 
small black scraps. At last, however, the fire 
burned down so that there was less flame; they 
managed to make some fairly respectable examples 
of camp pancakes, though no two were of either 
the same size, thickness, or colour. Notwitlu 
standing the various defects they tasted good, 
and as Evelyn remarked, “It’s to be eaten they’re 
made, and not for ornaments.” 

The days that followed seemed woefully long, 
the only excitement being the receipt of a letter 
from Andrew Strong the guide, saying he would 
have everything ready on the proper day and 
that he had arranged for Steve Trudel to go as 
second guide, while for cook and helpers he had 
Billy Talbot and Jim Stroud and John Cob. 

According to the plans, Mr. Sylvester and the 
party would leave home on August ist and go by 
train to North Sydney, where they would embark 
on the steamer for Port-aux-basques, and thence 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


19 


by train to Bay-of-Islands where the guides and 
food supplies would meet them. From there they 
would go by steamer to the river they expected 
to fish. If the weather should prove fine, they 
could leave the steamer directly opposite the 
mouth of the river, but should it be too rough 
they would have to go to the nearest harbour and 
land there to wait an opportunity to go along the 
coast to the river in the dory and canoes. 


CHAPTER II 


THEY REACH NEWFOUNDLAND, MAKE CAMP, AND 
GET SOME FISHING 

AT LAST the days of waiting came to an end. 

LjL July 31st had really arrived. Everything 
X 3L was securely packed ready for an early 
start in the morning. During the whole period 
of waiting the boys had been fearing that some- 
thing might happen to break up the trip, and they 
went to bed with the feeling that now at last they 
were fairly safe to go. 

The night was hot and sultry and sleep was al- 
most impossible, so they lay and talked and made 
plans for all the things they intended to do until 
finally a cool breeze came and soothed them to 
sleep. 

By seven the next morning the Sylvesters and 
Charlie Mason were off for the train, intensely 
happy now that the departure was an accomplished 
fact. At the station they found Mr. Pratt await- 
ing them and the whole party was soon being 
carried northward in a comfortable Pullman car. 
The journey through Maine, New Brunswick, and 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


21 


Cape Breton was made without anything of marked 
interest. Each stream and river was of course ex- 
amined carefully, but they all appeared far too 
“ civilized ” as the boys said, “not real wild rivers 
such as we are going to.” 

The evening of the second day North Sydney 
was reached and soon the party was safely on 
board a trim little steamer which was alongside 
the pier waiting for the mail train, so that she 
could get off and across the dangerous Cabot 
Strait. 

The boys, while standing about on deck, got 
into conversation with one of the officers, who 
told them terrible stories of the storms that raged 
during the long, dreary winter and how the little 
steamer had to plough through great fields of ice. 

“How is it that the ice doesn’t cut her?” said 
Charlie, for he had noticed that the bow of the 
steamer was sheathed with wood. “I always 
heard that ice would cut like glass, or break in 
the iron plates.” 

“Well, you see that coating of wood is of the 
very hardest oak and is laid over the plates; 
it has to be renewed as it gets worn through. 
But it ain’t the ice that gives us most trouble, 
though goodness only knows it’s bad enough at 
times, it’s the fog we dread. It’s so thick some- 
times you can’t actually see to light your pipe, 


22 


ADVENTURES IN 


and the harbour over t’other side yonder is so 
small and the entrance as crooked as a rabbit track 
in the snow, that it’s no fun trying to get in when 
you can’t see nothing. Then the waves breaking 
on the rocks and hammering the ice against the 
shore makes so much noise that you can’t hear the 
lighthouse foghorn. Between all that and the 
mill-race of a tide and the howling gales, ’tain’t 
just exactly what you’d call pleasure trippin’ 
after the weather once breaks.” 

“Are we in for bad weather to-night?” asked 
Jack. 

“No, I don’t think as we are, but there’s likely 
to be a bit of fog, so don’t let the sound of the old 
horn disturb your sleep, and don’t bother to get 
up before you’re called in the morning, as we may 
be a bit late in getting in.” 

“Come on, boys, it’s long past bedtime and I 
expect you’re tired.” 

“All right, Mother, we’re coming,” Jack re- 
plied, and down below they went and were soon 
tucked away in the small berths fast asleep. 
Nor did the repeated droning of the foghorn dis- 
turb their slumbers. They awoke fairly early to 
find that the vessel was scarcely moving. At reg- 
ular intervals the deep boom of the horn sounded. 

“I guess that old chap was right, Jack, for 
there is evidently fog.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


23 


“So it seems,” said Jack. “I do hope we won’t 
be delayed too much. Let’s go on deck and see 
what’s up.” 

So the boys dressed quickly and scrambled up on 
deck. Fog there certainly was, so dense that it 
seemed as if the vessel were suspended in mid-air. 
Not even the water was visible, and they won- 
dered how the Captain could possibly find his way. 
They shivered as they stood there, for the air was 
cold and damp and sent a chill through them. 
What a contrast to the heat they had left in Bos- 
ton but two days previously! It was almost too 
great a change and they went below to get warm. 

At eight o’clock the steward told them that 
they had better have some breakfast as there 
was no telling how soon they would be in. The 
advice was good and they acted on it. Scarcely 
had they finished when someone came below and 
said they could hear the foghorn on shore. This 
of course was the signal for everyone to rush on 
deck, each one bent on getting the first sight of 
Newfoundland. But they could see nothing. 
Nothing but the shroud of mist which covered and 
hid everything from view. In the distance the 
roar of the breakers on shore could be heard and 
the vessel went ahead at snail’s pace. The Cap- 
tain was steering by sound as he crept slowly and 
so carefully toward the rock-bound coast. 


24 


ADVENTURES IN 


Suddenly a slight breeze came along, gently 
sweeping the fog away as it passed over the water. 
As the mist moved, a thin, yellowish sun appeared, 
and as though this was the signal for raising the 
curtain, the fog lifted and but a few hundred 
yards away the moss-covered rocks of Newfound- 
land were clearly visible. 

Here it was at last. A bleak but strangely fas- 
cinating place, wild and forlorn, but full of possi- 
bilities for those who like Nature in her own 
primeval state. 

Twisting and turning about, the steamer worked 
its way through the narrow channel and soon was 
alongside the cold, gray wooden landing, near 
which was the narrow-gauge railway with its 
miniature engine snorting and puffing as though 
impatient at the delay. The landing was quickly 
accomplished, customs forms filled, and deposits 
made on the outfit, and within half an hour or so 
they were off. It was the first time the boys had 
been in a narrow-gauge carriage and it struck them 
as very funny. 

“More comfortable for thin than for fat people,” 
as Evelyn said. 

The first part of the journey was over the open 
moors or barrens as they are called, richly covered 
with many and beautifully coloured mosses, then 
along the coast quite close to the sea. On the 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 25" 

inland side great mountains rose and lost their 
heads in the low-hanging clouds. Everywhere 
there were ponds, large and small, and in many of 
them were ducks playing about among the water 
lilies. 

As they passed along close to the sea front, the 
boys noticed the peculiar growth of the spruce 
trees. Charlie asked Mr. Pratt about them and 
why it was that they started their branches level 
with the ground and gradually shelved upward 
away from the water. 

“You see,” said Mr. Pratt, “during the winter 
the wind blows with such terrific force that the 
trees near the coast would all be blown down, or 
rather uprooted, as they have a very slight hold 
in the shallow, peaty ground, so Nature has ar- 
ranged as cleverly as she usually does and made 
the trees throw their branches on the windward 
side along the ground, even under the soil, in order 
to get a better hold; then as the branches grow, 
the wind keeps them pruned very closely, thus 
making a compact mass so firm that it will bear a 
man’s weight quite easily. As the tree grows 
away from the sea its branches get longer while 
the top is kept solid and firm and slopes away. In 
this way there is the least possible resistance, so 
that the wind passes over it without doing any 
damage, whereas, should the wind succeed in 


26 


ADVENTURES IN 


getting under the branches, the trees would be 
fairly lifted and uprooted.” 

“What a curious thing,” said Charlie. “I 
noticed that on the windward side of the clumps 
of woods that we passed there is always a sort of 
shield of these sloping spruces. I suppose that 
protects the woods, doesn’t it?” 

“Of course. And you will notice that when the 
woods are in sheltered situations they do not have 
those protecting shields, for they are not needed. 
If only you take the trouble to look for it, you will 
find a reason for nearly everything in Nature. 
The trouble is, people will not take the trouble to 
use their eyes; or rather, they will not connect 
their eyes with their brain. Often, too, they simply 
look and see nothing. I can tell you that it pays 
well to observe everything as carefully as possible, 
for you never know when you will need your knowl- 
edge. So take my advice and keep your eyes open 
and don’t be too proud to ask questions.” 

How little he realized when he gave this sound 
advice to what extent the boys would require the 
knowledge that they were to gather on this trip. 

Fortunately both Jack and Charlie were natur- 
ally observant and took genuine pleasure in learn- 
ing all they could about the lives and habits of the 
wild creatures. They were brought up with the 
idea that in nature everything has a reason which 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


27 

can usually be discovered if only one takes the 
trouble to carefully and thoroughly observe. 

In the course of the slow-winding railway jour- 
ney the train crossed many rivers. In nearly 
all of them Mr. Pratt had fished and was able to 
tell them of his experiences with different fish 
that he had caught or lost. 

“Why don’t we stop here and fish these rivers,” 
asked the boys, “and so save the long steamer 
trip ?” 

“ Simply because nearly everyone who comes to 
Newfoundland has that same idea and the result 
is that the rivers are overcrowded and you have 
literally to sit on the pools to hold them, for if 
you go away for an hour some other chap will 
take them. Sometimes you meet fellows who 
have so little idea of manners or sportsman’s 
etiquette that they will come to a pool where you 
are fishing and without the slightest hesitation 
or apology cast right across your line, especially 
when they see that you have had a rise.” 

“What do you do in a case like that, Mr. Pratt?” 
asked Jack. 

“That’s the question. One feels like commit- 
ting a quiet little murder and burying the remains 
in the nearest bog-hole. I have tried a gentle 
remonstrance and received the reply: ‘Well, 
I guess you don’t own this river.’ Such a creature 


28 


ADVENTURES IN 


cannot be treated with decency. One time after 
receiving such a reply I had my guide cut some 
brush and let it float across the pool and kept on 
doing this till the fellow in desperation tried to 
cast between the branches and ended by losing 
two or three flies, while I sat quietly looking on 
and saying nothing. Once I put on a heavy fly 
and caught the line of a fellow, who thought it 
clever to fish across my pool, every time he cast 
near me. Quite by accident, of course! No, the 
best way to avoid such experiences is to avoid 
the frequented rivers, for the whole pleasure of 
fishing vanishes with any contact with disagreeable 
strangers. ,, 

“Isn’t it funny,” said Mrs. Sylvester, “how 
utterly selfish one is in fishing? I know sometimes 
when I have gone very early in the morning, which 
is the time I love best, to some particular stream to 
try for trout, and there at my pet pool I have seen 
a stranger fishing, why, my feeling was one of ab- 
solute hate, such as I have never had for any one 
else, and yet you can fish with a friend and thor- 
oughly enjoy it. I cannot understand it all, 
Fred.” 

“It is indeed hard to reason it out. I remember 
once I was fishing in this river we are just passing. 
It’s called Little River, because it’s twice as big 
as most of them. I was down some distance 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


29 

nearer the sea and had had several promising rises 
from a fair-sized fish. Unless a fish rises very soon 
after its first effort, it is generally best to let it rest 
before having another try. Well, I was just going 
to sit down and give it a rest, when, coming up- 
stream about half a mile away, I saw a canoe in 
which were two men, and one had a salmon rod. 
They were paddling along, evidently making for 
my pool. How I loathed that man no one would 
believe. I wanted to see his canoe capsize or 
smash on a rock and if I could have had my wishes 
he would never have come much closer. Of course 
I could not let the fish rest, as I wanted that man 
to see that I held actual fishing possession of that 
pool, and so I kept on casting, but keeping my eye 
more on the approaching man than on the fly. 
Result was I missed the fish twice. There was some- 
thing very familiar about the man in that canoe 
and to my surprise, I should say our surprise, it 
turned out to be my best friend. Neither of us 
knew that the other was in the country. Of 
course we were delighted and stayed together for 
more than a month. ” 

“How about the fish?’’ said Jack. 

“Oh, I forgot to say I caught him at the very 
first cast I made after my friend joined me.” 

“Was he big?" 

“No, not very, only about fourteen pounds, 


ADVENTURES IN 


30 

but he was a grand fighter, much better than some 
larger ones that I have caught.” 

It was well into the afternoon before the Sylves- 
ters and party reached Bay-of-Islands, where their 
guides met them on the station platform. Andrew 
Strong had guided Mr. Pratt several times and the 
two met like old friends. Then there was a general 
introduction, first of Andrew to all the party, after 
which he presented the other four. Steve Trudel, 
Billy Talbot, Jim Stroud, and John Cob or Old 
John as he was called. Then all made for the 
baggage car and seized the various bundles and 
bags which bore the party’s names. 

“Am glad to see you got no trunks, Mr. Pratt,” 
said Andrew. “These bags are surely a heap 
handier for the canoes. Why, do you know, the 
last sports I had brought two thunderin’ big 
trunks, so big that it took pretty near two of us to 
carry each of them. I knowed well enough they 
wouldn’t go in the canoes and told ’em so, but 
they insisted on trying, and after we had near 
busted the canoes they made us get a dory just 
so as they could fetch along them fancy trunks. 
That meant two more men and so we had to get 
that much more grub and waste all that time just 
for their foolishness.” 

Mr. Pratt and the Sylvesters, preceded by the 
men all heavily laden, marched do/wn the steep hill 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 31 

to the steamer which was to take them to their 
longed-for river. What accommodation the steamer 
had for passengers had been reserved for them. On 
deck they found the two canoes and the two dories 
in a convenient place for launching. The food sup- 
plies in small boxes were also on board so that 
everything was ready, and they all waited anxiously 
for the steamer to leave. It was, however, late that 
night before she cast off and proceeded down the 
magnificent bay formed by the mouth of the 
Humber River. Early in the morning they 
touched at the little settlement of Bonne Bay, 
perhaps the most beautiful bay in the Island; a 
short stay at the quaint little fishing village and 
once more they were off. Fortunately the 
weather was perfect and the Captain said he would 
let them off as soon as they were opposite their 
river. In the afternoon they arrived as near as 
the steamer could go and the boats were launched 
and loaded, and Jack, his father and Charlie Mason 
got into one of the canoes, while the others went in 
a dory. The other dory carried most of the kit 
and towed the extra canoe, and so all left the 
steamer and headed for the shore which held such 
great hopes for them. It was only about a mile 
and the distance was soon covered, the boys of 
course keeping well in the lead, for they could 
easily see the mouth of the river. Scarcely twenty 


32 


ADVENTURES IN 


minutes had passed since leaving the steamer be- 
fore the boats were in the current of the river. A 
landing was readily made, the boats unloaded and 
beached, and then all hands went up to look for a 
suitable camp site. The boys would far rather 
have got out the tackle and started fishing, but 
as it was getting late everyone was needed to help 
in getting the camp made before darkness set 
in. 

Andrew advised pitching the tents out in the 
open, as the flies would not be so bad ; the youngsters 
wanted it to be in the thick woods, but finally a 
compromise was made and the edge of the woods 
toward the shore and quite close to the river was 
chosen. Some ground was quickly cleared and 
tents laid out, poles and stakes cut, and within 
half an hour the four tents were pitched. 

Then, while the men brought up the loads and 
made the fireplace, the others gathered bedding, and 
it was surprising how many armfuls of fir branches 
were necessary for the six beds. The boys, and in 
fact all the party, knew how to make “ bough beds,” 
so the work went on at a great pace. Very soon 
the deep, springy beds were finished, ready for the 
waterproof ground sheets and blankets. Then 
began the opening of the tackle cases. Rods were 
assembled and reels put on, lines threaded and 
leaders placed in soak. As Andrew brought in 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


33 

the last load of provisions Evelyn suddenly realized 
that there were no tents up for the men. 

“Where are you going to sleep ?” she asked. 

“Don’t you worry, miss, you trust us to look 
after ourselves. It won’t take us long to get our 
places ready.” 

“Haven’t you got tents?” 

“Yes, miss, we got one, but we’ll make a bark 
lean-to, which is much better, and Old John is going 
out now to get the stuff for that. You just watch 
and you’ll see how quickly we build our house.” 

About fifty yards away from the tents Old 
John deposited a big load of bark and began to 
make the lean-to. But just then Charlie came 
running in and said: 

“Come on, Evelyn, Steve says the tide is on 
the turn and it’s the best time for sea trout. 
Here’s your trout rod and we’ve got the flies. 
Where’s your little landing-net, you might need 
that.” 

“Here it is,” and she pulled it out of her small 
tent. 

Off they went, picking up Jack on the way, as 
he was finding out what were the best flies. They 
raced down to the beach shouting like a lot of 
young Indians. Each one selected what seemed 
a suitable place near where the river opened into 
the sea. Montreals and Parmachenes were the 


ADVENTURES IN 


34 

flies they had been advised to use. No time was 
lost, as each one wanted to catch the first fish. 

Scarcely half a dozen casts had been made be- 
fore Evelyn had a rise, but in the excitement she 
missed. The next cast, however, was more for- 
tunate and she hooked her fish. 

“I’ve got one, I’ve got one!” she cried in her 
delight. 

“So have I, and a whopper, too,” came from Jack, 
followed a moment later by the same news from 
Charlie. 

It was true. Each one had hooked a fish at 
almost the same moment, and lively fish they were, 
too. How the light rods did bend as the trout 
rushed first one way and then another. 

“I say, isn’t this sport, Evie, beats that old Adi- 
rondack fishing all to smithereens, doesn’t it?” 

“Oh, I can’t speak,” she replied, “he’s pulling 
so hard. I do hope he won’t get off*. I’m sure it 
must be a salmon. Trout can’t pull like this.” 

Charlie and Jack landed their fish, they were 
both under a pound in weight much to their sur- 
prise. Evelyn’s fish had no intention of giving in 
yet, if anything he was getting more vigorous, and 
bent the tip of the rod into the water almost con- 
tinuously. The boys, though much interested, 
had no time to watch her, and they were quickly 
casting again and getting rises at almost every 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


35 

cast, but missing the fish through their over-eager- 
ness. In the meantime, Evelyn was having the 
time of her life, and was at last rewarded by land- 
ing a splendid three-and-a-half pound sea trout 
entirely by herself. s. 

“ Isn't he a beauty?” came from all three at 
once. 

And he was. His scales seemed to be of 
pure burnished silver and he was so finely built, 
quite different from those found in the inland 
streams and lakes. 

At the end of an hour the good luck came to a 
sudden end. Not a rise could they get. Evidently 
the trout had moved off, so they laid out their 
catch which, all told, numbered thirty-two, varying 
in size from less than half a pound up to the three- 
and-a-half pounder caught by Evelyn. Such fish- 
ing they had never dreamed of, not even in their 
wildest hopes, and they returned to camp in a most 
triumphant state of mind. Needless to say they 
were well greeted when they showed the catch. 

“By Jove, what a breakfast that will give us,” 
Mr. Sylvester remarked. 

“Why can’t we have them to-night, Dad?” 
Evelyn asked. 

“Because, my dear child, dinner — no, I mean 
grub, that’s what it’s called in camp — is just about 
ready. The fresh meat we brought from Bay-of- 


ADVENTURES IN 


36 

Islands has been cooked, and we must make the 
most of it, for we shall get no more for some weeks. 
By the way, are those trout cleaned? No? Well, 
get a move on and clean ’em/’ 

The youngsters in their anxiety to show their 
catch had forgotten the family rule that “he who 
catches must clean.” So as the smell of dinner 
reached their nostrils and reminded them that 
they were very, very hungry, they lost no time in 
going down to the beach and preparing the fish 
for the pan. 

Scarcely had they finished when, “Grub's 
ready” sounded loudly in the stillness of the 
evening. 

“Dad's got a megaphone, I’ll bet,” said Jack. 
“And I'll bet it's made of birch bark,” from 
Charlie. And he was right, for Mr. Sylvester, 
knowing the difficulty of getting the family to- 
gether, had made an enormous bark horn which 
would cause the sound to carry a very long 
way. 

Billy Talbot proved himself an extremely good 
cook. His steak broiled over the red-hot embers 
was a masterpiece. Potatoes, fried onions, and a 
finishing up of nice brown slapjacks made a meal 
fit for a king. 

“Not much like our poor attempts,” remarked 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


37 

Evelyn, as she tucked away a beautifully browned 
one. 

“ We must take this opportunity of learning how 
to make them,” suggested Charlie, smacking his 
lips. 

“Yes, you had better make friends with Billy 
and he’ll be able to show you lots of things in the 
way of camp cooking,” said Mrs. Sylvester. 

Mr. Pratt added: “You three will be so busy 
learning during the next few weeks that you won’t 
have any time to fish. I say, George, what do 
you say to going out now before it gets dark and 
have a try for a salmon in the first pool, it’s only 
a couple of hundred yards up the river.” 

“Right you are, I expect the leaders are well 
soaked by now. I’ll be with you in a jiffy, only 
got to slip on my waders. We needn’t take the 
men. If we should chance to get a fish the boys 
can run back and get them to bring the gaff, for I 
don’t suppose they have been lashed to handles yet.” 

“Mine is ready,” said Mr. Pratt, “so we can 
take that with us. Come on, boys. What about 
you, Mary, do you want to come?” 

“Not yet, thank you. But Evelyn and I will 
follow soon. Just show us where you are going.” 

“You see that dark still water beyond the tall 
dead pine; well, we shall be there. Just follow 
this track through the corner of the woods and it 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


38 

will bring you right to the pool. We’ll be off now. 
Better bring some fly dope along, for the mosqui- 
toes are apt to be troublesome.” 

The two men and the boys started off* to the 
pool. As they were tossing up for choice of ends 
an enormous fish rolled lazily in the very middle of 
the pool. 

“By Jove! that’s a fish and a half; looks like one 
of those thirty-pounders people tell about but don’t 
often catch in this country,” said Mr. Pratt. 

The boys were sure it was a porpoise, so big and 
dark did it appear. They were so excited that 
they could scarcely speak, for they fully expected 
to see the fish caught at the very first cast. They 
had much to learn about salmon fishing. Both 
the men worked hard, trying every sort of fly, 
but beyond getting one lazy reply their efforts 
were unrewarded. They had the pleasure of see- 
ing other big fish several times, much to Mrs. 
Sylvester’s delight. In the dim twilight they 
went back to camp. The big blazing fires gave 
an air of comfort and beauty to the scene and as 
Mrs. Sylvester remarked: “It almost makes one 
want to be a fire-worshipper.” 

Bed was very much the order and in a surpris- 
ingly short time there was no sound save the 
crackling of the fire as the sparks shot up through 
the tree-tops. 


CHAPTER III 


THEY TRY SALMON FISHING AND HAVE GOOD LUCK 
THEY ALSO LEARN THINGS 

B Y FIVE o’clock next day the sound of the 
axe awoke the family, after a night’s sleep 
such as one never gets except in the wilds. 
The pure sweet air, tinged with the aromatic scent 
of the balsam boughs, was so different from the 
air of inhabited regions. Even the smoke from the 
blazing birch fire was sweet. It was delightful to lie 
there on the fragrant beds and enjoy it all, but 
there was fishing to be done, to say nothing of a 
delicious breakfast of fresh fried trout to be eaten. 
The men and the boys washed down by the river- 
side in the clear but very cold water. Then came 
the breakfast, one never to be forgotten, and as 
soon as it was finished preparations for the day’s 
sport were begun. 

“I’ll take the two boys with me if you like, 
George, and you go with your wife and Evelyn. 
I’d like to give them some lessons in salmon fish- 
ing, if you don’t mind.” 

“All right, if you are sure they won’t bother you.” 


39 


4 o 


ADVENTURES IN 


So it was decided. They tossed for who should 
have the upper and who the lower part of the river. 
Mr. Pratt and the boys chose the upper. That 
meant a walk of a mile or two before they began 
fishing. Steve accompanied them, while Andrew 
went with the others. Under the skilful teaching 
of Mr. Pratt, the boys soon learned to cast fairly 
well, but the day was almost too fine and clear and 
the fish did not rise well. 

The result of the whole day’s work, however, was 
not bad for a beginning. Jack got a five-pound sal- 
mon, Charlie two grilse, Mr. Pratt one eight- 
pounder. Mrs. Sylvester got one small grilse, her 
husband one ten-pounder, while Evelyn hooked and 
lost a small salmon afterhavingitonforhalf anhour. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that everyone 
had enjoyed the day to its fullest. Jack could 
not get over the strength of his five-pounder. It 
had given him all he could do to bring it to the gaff, 
and he confessed that, much as he would like to 
catch a bigger one, he was just as glad that the 
first had been small. Poor little Evelyn was very 
sad at having lost her fish, but she had had some 
fun, and anyway, she said, it was better than not 
having hooked one at all. 

“What can we do with all this fish?” asked Mrs. 
Sylvester. “Surely we cannot eat so much before 
it spoils.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


4i 

“Don’t you worry, ma’am,” replied Andrew. 
“There’s eleven of us here and all got pretty good 
appetites, so you won’t find much left to-morrow.” 

“But suppose we get much more than we can 
use, what do we do with it? Up in Maine, when 
we fished for black bass, we let every one go except 
what we needed for food,” said Jack. 

“Well,” said Andrew, “don’t you let any sal- 
mon get away, please, for there will be days when 
we can’t catch none. You know, they get sulky 
sometimes, or the weather may be bad or some- 
thing may happen, and then we’ll need all we get.” 

“But how in the world can we keep them? 
Surely they won’t last more than two days, as we 
have no ice.” 

“Smoke ’em, sir, smoke ’em. You catch the 
fish, and we will show you how to do it. All we 
got to do is to make a bark smoke-house and we’ll 
have the finest smoked salmon you ever saw.” 

Mrs. Sylvester became interested, for she had 
visions of using the results of their trip during the 
winter months, so she asked Andrew how long the 
smoked fish would keep. 

“Well, that all depends, ma’am,” he said slowly. 
“If they’s slightly salted and smoked for four or 
five days and then packed properly, they’ll keep 
for a couple of months if they’re kept in a dry, cool 
place, away from flies. We fellers don’t bother 


ADVENTURES IN 


42 

much about smokin’ ’em. We just puts ’em in 
salt, so they keeps forever.” 

“That’s fine,” said Jack. “We’ll catch all you 
want, so that you can smoke some for us to take 
home, and salt some for yourselves.” 

Andrew smiled as he replied, “Thank you, I 
expect you’ll catch all you can .” 

“How about sea trout; can’t you smoke or salt 
them?” asked Charlie, thinking of their first after- 
noon’s sport. 

“No, they ain’t much good, they get so very dry, 
for they ain’t got the fat like the salmon has. Of 
course, they do well enough if you have nothing 
better, but they’re not what you might call popu- 
lar, except when they’re quite fresh.” 

The following day, the party changed about, 
and Mr. and Mrs. Sylvester took the upper part of 
the river. Instead of taking a complete lunch, they 
simply took some soda biscuits (scones), tea, sugar, 
and salt. These were left, together with a kettle 
and some cups, at a certain pool about half way to 
the place where the fishing started at the upper 
pool. The plan was to meet there at lunch time 
and cook some salmon. This sounded like a real 
picnic. 

The morning’s fishing proved very discour- 
aging until about 11.30, when things began to 
happen. Evelyn caught the first one, a fine lively 


BEAVER STRFAM CAMP 


43 

grilse, which spent most of his time in the air, much 
to her delight. Five other fish were caught before 
the two parties arrived at the meeting-place, 
Mr. Pratt having landed the largest one, which 
weighed fifteen pounds. 

The Sylvesters reached the appointed place first, 
and, while waiting, Evelyn saw a grilse jump at 
the lower end of the pool. Of course, she im- 
mediately went after it, and just as the boys ap- 
peared on the scene, to her intense delight she 
hooked the fish. She felt very important playing 
the lively grilse with all the family watching, and 
even Jack’s announcement that he had landed a 
seven-pounder did not in the least detract from 
the pleasure she had in showing off her skill. 
Charlie asked to be allowed to gaff the fish. She 
felt a little dubious about letting him do it, but 
finally consented. His first attempt was a failure, 
and he struck the line. 

“Oh, don’t be in such a hurry, Charlie,” she 
cried. “Wait till I bring him nearer the surface.” 

This she proceeded to do, and the fish was secure- 
ly gaffed. The men then gathered some dead drift- 
wood and some birch bark, and had a small fire 
going in a few minutes. The kettle, which is the 
most important part of every Newfoundlander’s 
outfit, was hung on the end of a green stick, whose 
other end was stuck in the ground. One of the 


ADVENTURES IN 


44 

salmon was now cleaned and split, and, fastened 
in a split stick, was soon broiling over the fire, 
giving off a most delicious odour which promised 
well. 

“I don’t believe that will be enough for all of 
us,” said Jack. “Let’s cook one of the grilse, too.” 

So one was prepared and was soon sizzling over 
the^fire. No fish had ever tasted so good to the 
family. The smell of the wood was in the fish and 
added greatly to the flavour. Altogether, the 
meal was most thoroughly enjoyed, none realizing 
how much the keenness of their appetites had to 
do with the excellence of the cooking. 

Both Evelyn and the boys were tired with the 
morning’s casting, so they decided to return to 
camp and have a try for sea trout as soon as the 
tide was right. The result was some splendid 
sport, though nothing more than three pounds was 
caught. Toward evening, the weather changed 
and it began to rain, so they put up a large square 
shelter of birch bark for a dining room in order to 
be able to eat in comfort. 

Next morning it blew a regular gale with almost 
incessant rain. Fishing under such circumstances 
was out of the question, so the boys got Steve to 
tell them something about his life in the wilds. 
He was a half-breed, his mother a Labrador In- 
dian, his father a French fisherman. His English 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


45 

was so quaint, that it will be better to translate 
it in order that it may be more easily understood. 

“What do you do all winter ?” asked Charlie, 
as they all sat under the bark shelter before the 
blazing fire. 

“Sometimes I go off to the banks, fishing, and 
sometimes I trap. They are both pretty hard, 
but I like the trapping best, as one is more free to 
do what one wants, and I manage to get home to 
the wife and kids more often.” 

“What animals do you get?” 

“Foxes, otter, musk-rat, ermine, and lynx; but 
the foxes are the chief skins, for there are a lot of 
‘silvers’ here in this country and they are worth 
a pile of money.” 

“What is a ‘silver’ ? Is it like the common fox, 
and how much is it worth ?” asked Charlie. 

“Well, ‘silvers’ are the same breed as the others, 
but they’re sort of freaks. Good ones are black 
with just a tipping of white, and they are worth 
more than a thousand dollars. I have heard of one 
which sold for two thousand seven hundred dollars, 
but I don’t believe the poor trapper got half that 
sum. It’s those dealers who get the money, we 
poor chaps who do the work get left every time.” 

What are the common fox worth ?” 

“Oh, not more than five or ten dollars.” 

“How many foxes do you get in a winter?” 


ADVENTURES IN 


4 6 

“Not many in this country; sometimes not 
more than five for the whole winter’s work, and 
sometimes twice as many, but out of that number 
there’s likely to be either silver or crosses. But 
some silvers are not worth more than fifty dollars. 
Over in Canada a fellow gets often a hundred foxes 
in a season, but then there is not one chance in a 
hundred of getting a silver. If a fellow got that 
number of skins over here, he would probably have 
fifteen or twenty ‘ silvers,’ and would make enough 
to keep him going for the rest of his life.” 

“It must be awfully exciting visiting the traps,” 
said Jack, who had always wanted to be a trapper. 

“Yes, but it’s harder work than you would be- 
lieve, and it’s mighty lonesome, unless you have a 
friend with you, and we usually go in pairs. But 
even so, it’s hard, cold work, for the winters are 
cruel up here, and the line of traps must be visited 
two or three times each week no matter how bad 
the weather is. Sometimes a blizzard comes along 
and catches you when you are out on the job, and 
you can’t get back till it passes. So you have to 
make a shelter if you are not within reach of a 
‘cabin,’ and just keep a roaring fire going to keep 
you from freezing.” 

“What sort of grub do you have, and how do 
you get it?” asked Jack. 

“We take up barrels of flour and pork, some tea 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


47 

and sugar and baking powder, and that’s about 
all. If our camp is going to be near a river, we 
take our supplies up in a boat before the cold 
weather starts, but sometimes we have to drag it 
most of the way in sleds when the ground is cov- 
ered with snow. We get a few rabbits (hares), and 
sometimes a caribou for a change, but we live very 
simply, I can tell you, not much like the sort of 
grub we get here in this camp.” 

“ Are otters common ? ” 

“No, with luck you get four or five during the 
season, and about the same number of Lucifer 
(lynx), though there are more of them now than 
there used to be. In fact, there used to be none 
at all before they came over on the ice from 
Labrador, and that’s not so very many years ago. 
Their skins are worth from ten to fifteen dollars. 
About the same as otters, or a trifle less.” 

“How about musk-rats? Aren’t they very 
common?” 

“Yes, in some places, but not like in Canada. 
I can remember when they weren’t worth catching, 
for they only fetched five or eight cents apiece. 
Now they have gone up to twenty-five and even 
fifty cents, so we try hard for them.” 

“You haven’t mentioned beaver,” said Charlie. 
“Yet I have read about them being in Newfound- 
land, I’m sure.” 


ADVENTURES IN 


48 

“They are here right enough, but the ‘law’s 
on ’em,’ and we are not allowed to touch one for 
several years.” 

“How is that?” 

“Well, you see, they used to go for them so hard 
that in a few years there would have been none left, 
so now the fellows in St. John’s have made a long 
close season. It’s pretty hard on us chaps, but I 
suppose it’s our own fault. You see, the beaver is 
the easiest of all animals to trap or shoot, and 
as the skins were worth ten dollars, we very natur- 
ally got all we could. When we found a colony, 
we simply wiped it out. We had no sense, and 
now we are paying for it. If we had only done 
like the old Indians did, it would have been dif- 
ferent. In parts of Canada, so I’ve heard, they 
found a colony of, say, twenty beavers, that’s 
about four lodges or families, and they took only 
ten each year. So the colony kept right on breed- 
ing and were like any other crop. Some of those 
Indians knew just how many beaver they were 
going to get each season; but then if we had tried 
that here, some other chaps would have followed 
behind us and taken all we left, so we left none. 
Perhaps some day we may be allowed to go beaver 
trapping again, when they get really common.” 

“Can you show us a beaver colony near here?” 
asked Charlie who with his craze for natural his- 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


49 

tory would have given anything for an opportun- 
ity to see and study these most interesting of ani- 
mals. 

“I expect so. How would you like to take a 
couple of days and go up into the country? We 
could go by canoe quite a long way, as there is a 
large lake above where you started fishing, and 
from there we could go up the river where it comes 
in. You’ll see lots of things that will interest you.” 

“ Let’s ask Dad,” said Jack, and forthwith they 
went over to the tent and put the suggestion. 

“Rather a good idea,” he said. “I don’t sup- 
pose we shall need the tents. Andrew and Steve,” 
he shouted, “come here! What do you think 
of this scheme of making a two-days’ trip up 
country? We could manage in the two canoes, 
couldn’t we?” 

“Yes, sir,” Andrew answered, “and this would 
be a good time after the rain, as the fishing won’t 
be much good here until the water goes down a 
little. This rain will make it easier going up 
above, and we should have a spell of good weather 
when this storm passes. We can easily rig up a 
bark shelter, so we won’t need anything but some 
grub, a couple of kettles, and the sleeping bags.” 

“How about fishing? Will there be any up 
there?” asked Charlie. 

“Take your trout rods. They’ll come in handy, 


ADVENTURES IN 


5o 

for you will find some pretty good fishing in the 
upper river. Well, sir, shall we start to-morrow, 
if the weather is good ?” 

“Yes, and we must get everything ready to- 
night. Tell Billy to make lots of biscuits.” 

“Right, sir, I’ll see to it all”; and Steve and 
Andrew went over to Billy and gave him his in- 
structions. Some bacon, tea, sugar, flour, 
butter, jam, and a couple of tins of meat were 
packed ready, some cups, a kettle, a cooking pail, 
frying-pan, and a couple of axes. Plates were not 
allowed, as the boys insisted that birch bark was 
much better and would not have to be washed. 
They also wanted to leave the frying-pan behind, 
but the word “slapjack” made them change their 
minds. Only half their regular allowance of 
blankets was to be taken for, as Andrew said, 
they would have big fires built in front of the lean- 
to and it would be quite warm. 

The whole party was greatly excited at the pros- 
pect of the trip, and it was quite late before the 
boys could be induced to stop talking and go to 
sleep. 

The morning broke bright and clear overhead, 
while a blue veil of mist covered the land. This 
gradually vanished, and by the time breakfast 
was finished everything was bathed in sunlight. 
Steve and Jim Stroud had carried the canoes up to 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


5i 

the lake, as the water was dangerously high in the 
river. Andrew and Old John took the rest of the 
outfit, and as soon as breakfast was finished, off 
they all started. 

The trail up river was of the usual kind, just 
a moss-covered winding path through the low 
woods. Most of the trees they passed were 
spruces, and nearly all were well covered with 
moss. It struck the boys that it would be very 
difficult to tell north from south if they had to 
depend on the popular belief that moss only grew 
on the north side of the trunks, and they asked 
Andrew whether he had ever heard of this. 

“It’s fairly true in some places,” he replied, in 
answer to the question, “but you can’t really 
depend on it, in a thick wood especially. Trees that 
grow out more or less solitary-like and get the 
full force of the wind as well as the sun are usually 
more heavily coated with moss on their north side. 
But you can’t trust it altogether. You see, moss 
doesn’t like the sun, so it doesn’t grow so much on 
the south; and the tree doesn’t like the cold wind 
and freezing rain on its bark, so the moss acts as a 
sort of protection.” 

“I always carry a compass,” said Charlie, “and 
I expect that’s the best thing to do, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, it’s well to have a small one along with 
you, for it does help to make you walk straight if 


ADVENTURES IN 


52 

you only believe that it’s right; but the strange 
thing is, if you do happen to get lost, or rather if 
you do happen to lose camp, you never will believe 
the compass. It always seems wrong, and you 
insist as often as not in going in circles. No one 
knows why you do so, but it’s a fact that ninety- 
nine out of a hundred people who aren’t really 
accustomed to the woods keep going round and 
round, and the more nervous they get about being 
lost, the smaller the circles. IVe known sports 
go round their camp a dozen times, passing within 
a couple of hundred yards of it and not until they 
heard voices or seen smoke would they find it. 

“Now, if you’ll only use the compass and believe 
it, you can at least go straight. But the safest 
thing is to be born with wood sense, that is, you 
always keep your eyes open and notice everything 
without knowing that you’re doing it. It’s sort 
of born in you, and you can feel the north and 
south. We fellows who live out in the wilds so 
much manages to find our way about without 
knowing how. Of course, there’s some who never 
can find their way, and they ought not to go out 
alone. Why, do you know, a chap went out 
rabbit shooting near Howley last autumn and 
lost his way within half a mile of where he lived. 
It was pretty cold weather along in November, 
and that man, born and brought up in the neigh- 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


53 

bourhood, went round and round in a small piece 
of spruce woods until he got exhausted and fell 
down, and no one heard anything more of him until 
three days later some deer hunters came across 
him stone dead, within shouting distance of his 
home. He just naturally got scared and lost his 
sense.” 

“But why didn’t he fire a shot?” asked Charlie. 

“Goodness only knows. His folks said they 
heard some shooting, but of course they thought 
he was hunting rabbits, and didn’t worry, and 
when he didn’t turn up they supposed he’d gone 
off to stay with a friend of his who lived a mile 
farther down the track. They never even felt 
worried about him till next day.” 

“Didn’t he light a fire or do anything to help 
himself?” 

“Not a thing. Just kept on going round and 
round, just like an animal that’s shot in the head.” 

“What’s the best thing to do if you get lost?” 
asked Charlie. 

“Well, that depends. Sometimes it’s best to 
light a smoke fire if there’s not too much wind and 
you think there is any one within sight. Then 
fire a shot once in a while. But, after all, if you 
are really lost, keep on straight, keeping some 
distant mark in sight, till you find a stream. No 
matter how small it is, it will lead you to other 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


. 54 

streams and they will take you to rivers, and rivers 
will surely take you somewhere. Of course, it 
makes bad walking, especially in this boggy 
country, but you can’t be too particular when 
it’s a case of life or death. It don’t pay to do 
much shouting, because you can’t be heard, and 
it’s mighty exhausting; though perhaps you might 
make a birch horn, like your uncle has, and make 
yourself heard quite a distance. If you do shout, 
do it three or four times pretty close together. 
Once is no good, because a fellow might be leaning 
down or making more noise, and then if he thinks 
he hears something, he’ll look up and listen for the 
next call; but he may not get the direction of the 
sound until he has heard it once or twice.” 

As he finished speaking, the boys caught sight 
of the lake in front and rushed forward with 
Evelyn, to find Jim and Steve with the canoes on 
the edge of quite a large lake. 



Photographed from Life 


Copyright by A. Radclyffe Dugmore 


A Newfoundland caribou 







CHAPTER IV 


THEY GO FOR A TRIP INLAND— GET SOME GOOD TROUT 
FISHING, SEE CARIBOU AND BEAVER, 

AND LEARN SOME MORE THINGS 

I T DID not take long to embark. Mr. Pratt 
and Mrs. Sylvester went in one canoe with 
Andrew and took most of the kit, while the 
three youngsters went in the other with Steve and 
Mr. Sylvester. It was a glorious morning for a 
paddle, not a ripple stirred the surface of the lake 
except when three loons swam ahead of the canoes 
diving occasionally, then coming up and giving 
their weird cry which echoed in a most curious 
way around the lake. 

“Why, it sounds as though there were madmen 
all round the lake laughing at us,” said Evelyn. 

Her description was an accurate one, for there is 
no sound in nature more weird and uncanny than 
the queer call of the loon. 

For about a mile and a half the explorers kept 
on toward an opening which they finally made out 
to be the river. 

“We’re lucky to have such a fine morning,” 
Steve remarked; “if there had been much wind, 


ss 


ADVENTURES IN 


56 

we would have had to go round the shore and inside 
those islands and that’s a much longer way.” 

As they approached the river mouth they saw 
something moving very rapidly along the water 
between one of the islands and the mainland. 

“There’s a canoe,” both the boys cried together. 

Steve smiled and said in his quaint way: “I 
no tink.” 

“Surely it is, isn’t it, Dad?” 

“Well, I don’t know, it certainly looks like a 
canoe with no one in the stern, but a big person 
in the bow.” 

Just then Mr. Pratt called: “See the caribou 
over there, not a bad looking stag either.” 

Then, of course, there was great excitement and 
the canoes were driven through the water as fast as 
possible in hope of getting close to the animal, but 
he was a long way off and was moving almost as 
fast as the canoes. 

“Now, boys, keep very still and we’ll paddle 
quickly and quietly straight for him as he lands 
and perhaps we may get close,” said Mr. Sylvester. 

So the boys sat tight, scarcely daring to breathe, 
and rapidly the canoes moved forward toward the 
stag, which had landed. As he came out of the 
water he shook his coat, just as a dog might do, 
then stood like a statue and stared at the ap- 
proaching boats. Several times he lowered his 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


57 

head, then flung it up again as though trying to 
get the scent. 

Closer and closer they came in the canoes, and 
still the stag did not go. Finally they were within 
fifteen yards, moving very slowly, when one of the 
canoes struck a snag with a loud noise. That 
broke the spell and the stag gave one frightened 
snort, a quick sideways jump, and then turned 
and crashed through the low bushes and into the 
dense trees where he was immediately lost to view. 

“Oh, I say, wasn’t that fun?” shouted Charlie. 
“What a pity we didn’t have the camera ready, 
wouldn’t he have made a fine picture.” 

“That’s a jolly good beginning to our trip, I 
call it. Almost as good as catching a big salmon,” 
said Jack, who in his heart would probably liked 
to have had a shot at the animal. 

Charlie then asked Steve: “Why is it that cari- 
bou was gray with scarcely any white, and why 
were his horns so very thick?” 

“That’s his summer coat, the hair is short and 
gray but it will soon change, and he will have a 
snow-white neck and rump, and in winter he’ll 
be almost all white.” 

“Oh, but I never knew that they changed their 
colour like these hares do, for they do, don’t 
they? It’s so that they cannot be seen in the 
snow, isn’t it?” 


ADVENTURES IN 


58 

“I don’t know if that’s the reason, but they 
certainly do change to white just as soon as the 
snow falls. But then their greatest enemy, the 
ermine, does just the same. You see he is sort of 
yellow brown all summer and then he gets white 
at the same time that the rabbit does. So I ex- 
pect there is some other reason that no one knows, 
not even those fellows who write books about 
animals.” 

“That does sound strange,” said Mr. Sylvester. 
“I had never thought about it from that point of 
view.” 

“You did not tell me about the cari*bou’s horns, 
why they are so thick?” asked Charlie. 

“They’re still in the velvet, as they are not 
quite hard yet; you see they are new, only started 
to grow about May, to take the place of the ones 
he dropped last November. Now in a month or so 
the velvet will come off as the horn gets hard, the 
stag rubs it off against the trees, and you can find 
some very popular rubbing trees which are used 
by numbers of stags. Some of the velvet is 
picked off with their hind hoofs.” 

“Just think of growing such great big horns 
every year! They must grow awful quick,” said 
Evelyn. 

While they were talking, Jack suddenly spotted 
something moving in the grass near the shore. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


59 

“Hush,” he said, “what’s that?” Then a 
moment later a small brown creature entered the 
water and swam toward them. “Oh, it’s only a 
musk-rat, I thought it was something much 
bigger.” 

The object of their attention stopped when 
he heard Jack’s voice, took one look at the canoes, 
dived very suddenly, and was not seen again. 

“Looked almost like a small beaver,” said Jack. ? 

“Oh, no, his tail is quite different,” Steve re- 
plied; “the beaver’s tail is very big and wide and 
lies flat on the water and they don’t swim with it, 
but the musk-rat has a long tail which is like a 
narrow paddle and he uses it to swim with. Now 
we must get along or we will never get up to the 
camping place.” 

As they paddled along the shore there was sud- 
denly a big swirl of water making quite a wave. 

“That’s a salmon, boys,” called out Mr. Pratt, 
“this is evidently a spawning bed.” 

And then the boys were told how the salmon 
come up every year from the sea, entering different 
rivers at different times, but always at about the 
same time each year. After staying in the fresh 
water for a short time in the lower part of the river, 
they work their way up to certain sandy and grav- 
elly places and there make their spawning beds or 
nests. When they enter the rivers, they are a 


6o 


ADVENTURES IN 


bright silver colour but this soon goes and they 
get a very dark and greenish bronze. After the 
spawning season is over they return to the sea 
which is their real home. In this way the At- 
lantic salmon differ from those in the Pacific, for 
there they go up the rivers and, after spawning) 
die, which is something no man can explain. 

While Mr. Pratt was telling them this they were 
getting nearer the mouth of the river, when 
Charlie saw a curious piece of wood, about four 
feet long and two inches thick, both ends 
quite white and roughly pointed. On asking 
what it was, Steve got hold of it and explained 
that it was a beaver cutting. This was indeed 
good news, especially when he told them that they 
would probably find a colony somewhere up the 
river, for the cutting was quite fresh and had evi- 
dently been washed down by the recent rise in 
the river. 

“What did they cut that for?” Charlie wanted 
to know.. “Was it to build a dam with?” 

“No, it is too early for building dams and houses, 
that will begin later, but this was for food”; and he 
showed them where the sharp teeth had cut off 
some of the bark. “A big beaver cut the stick, 
but a small one had started to eat the bark.” 

“How in the world do you know that?” asked 
Charlie, much amazed. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


61 


“By the size of the teeth; at the ends, the teeth 
marks are wide, but there along the sides, the 
marks are quite narrow, about a three or four- 
months-old beaver.” 

“Quite simple when you know how,” remarked 
Jack’s father. 

When they reached the river their progress was 
very slow, as the current was strong. In several 
places there were rapids and the canoes had to 
be carried past, as they were too heavily-laden to 
get through without danger. The boys noticed 
that whenever it was possible the canoes were 
kept quite close to the banks, and Steve explained 
that there was usually a back eddy or return cur- 
rent which went up instead of down stream and so 
it helped them along. 

“When we go down stream you will notice that 
we keep right in the middle, especially in the rapids, 
where you will be surprised to see that we pick 
out the roughest water, for that is the safest so 
long as you keep right in the middle of the waves 
at the point of the V where they come together,” 
added Mr. Pratt. 

Shortly before noon they reached a place where 
the men said was the best camping ground as 
there was good trout fishing to be had at the 
mouth of a small stream close by which emptied 
into the river. And back of the fringe of trees 


62 ADVENTURES IN 

there was a big barren that should have lots of 
bake apples. 

“What in the world are bake apples ?” Evelyn 
asked. 

“They are very sweet yellow berries that grow 
in the bogs,” said Andrew. “And you will find 
them very good, either raw or cooked; you may 
also find some blueberries, but they are scarcely 
ripe yet, I expect.” 

The camping ground selected was in a fringe of 
birch and spruce trees, while the ground was cov- 
ered with a thick carpet of rich green moss. 

“Uncle George, let’s get some trout for lunch,” 
Charlie suggested. 

“Right you are, we can fish from the shore and 
let us see who will catch the first fish. Now all 
start even. Come along, Mary, you must be in 
this competition.” 

No urging was necessary, and soon all six had 
their rods ready and each selected what seemed a 
good place. Mr. Pratt whispered something to 
Mrs. Sylvester and she chose a place immediately 
below where the small stream came in. 

“Nothing under eight inches to count,” called 
out Mr. Pratt, and everyone began as the signal 
was given. 

The boys in their anxiety to beat their elders, 
cast fast and furious, scarcely giving time for 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 63 

their flies to sink at all. The result was that 
they had a number of rises from fingerlings. 
Suddenly Mrs. Sylvester’s rod was seen to be 
bending and her line zigzagging through the 
water. Almost at the same moment her husband 
had a good rise and hooked his fish. Then the 
fun began; the others were so interested that 
they forgot their own fishing and let their lines 
trail while they watched. Never were fish given 
less time to think about fighting, they were simply 
hustled toward the landing nets. Without a mo- 
ment’s warning Charlie’s rod was almost pulled 
out of his hand; the fly, having sunk deep, was taken 
by a really good fish and he quickly forgot the 
others and had his hands more than full attending 
to his own task. 

In the meantime, Mrs. Sylvester brought her 
fish to the net and landed it just a few seconds 
before her husband had secured his. 

They were small trout weighing about a pound 
each, hers if anything being the larger. 

Charlie, wildly delighted, called out that his 
fish was a salmon. 

“I simply can’t hold him, he’s taking out all 
the line, what shall I do?” 

Steve, seeing his difficulty, jumped into the 
canoe and brought it up to the excited boy, who 
in some way managed to scramble in without 


ADVENTURES IN 


64 

letting the fish get oflF. His fears were by no 
means groundless for the line had nearly run out. 
The fish had got into the rough water and with 
the aid of the swift current would probably have 
broken loose, had the boy not been able to follow 
in the canoe. 

Down they went till a large quiet pool was 
reached and here Steve held the canoe while 
Charlie played his prize. For half an hour the 
fight lasted, and then with Steve’s help he landed 
a five-and-half-pound trout. His delight was 
boundless and he went ashore wfith a feeling of 
satisfied pride. 

“If it hadn’t been for your aunt, you would 
never have caught that,” said Mr. Pratt. “It 
was because while watching her you let your line 
sink; and that’s the best way in these waters. 
The big trout don’t often come to the fly at the 
surface; he certainly is a beauty and not so very 
long up from the sea as you will notice by his still 
fairly bright colour.” 

The fishing was resumed and it was not long 
before they had plenty of trout for lunch; these 
were quickly fried and all hands fell to work wdth 
a will, for they were really as hungry as hunters. 

After lunch it was decided to make the lean-tos 
and get everything ready for the night, before 
going out to explore the surrounding country. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 65 

A lot of bark had to be stripped, poles cut, and 
plenty of boughs for beds. With everyone help- 
ing, however, the work did not take long and in 
about an hour two lean-tos were finished, one 
for the family and a small one for the two guides. 

Some big logs were then cut so that there would 
be firewood to last through the night, and by 
half-past two they were ready and started up to 
the barren, taking pails and cups to hold the 
berries they hoped to find. 

It was the first time that any of them, except 
Mr. Pratt, had been on the barrens which are so 
peculiar to Newfoundland, and they were much 
interested in the great stretch of scrub-covered 
bog, with the endless small ponds, surrounded by 
the beautifully coloured mosses and yellow grass. 
From some of these ponds ducks flew up as the 
party approached. Then they heard a honking 
sound, and a flock of eleven wild geese rose with a 
heavy flapping of wings. They only flew a short 
distance and then alighted on the farther side of 
the barren. 

‘‘That’s a brood of young birds with their 
mother,” said Andrew. “The young chaps are 
not much on flying yet. If we’d been here a 
couple of weeks sooner, we could have caught 
them and they’d have been uncommon good eat- 
ing.” 


66 


ADVENTURES IN 


“How about the bake apples ?” asked Jack. 

Andrew looked about for a moment and said, 
pointing to a piece of flat bog, “That looks like a 
good place. Let’s go there and see if we can’t 
find some.” 

True enough, the place was covered with what 
looked like large yellow raspberries growing on a 
small plant close to the ground. The youngsters 
eagerly gathered some and declared them very 
good, and so they were, quite unlike anything 
they had ever tasted before. Though why they 
were called “bake apples” no one could tell. 

“Now stop eating, you young rascals, and pick 
some for camp. When all the cups and pails are 
full you may eat as many as you want, but until 
then I want you to work,” said Mrs. Sylvester. 

They worked with a will and soon had every 
vessel filled. After that they were allowed to 
have a good feed. When they had had their fill 
the cups and pails were hidden on a small knoll, 
so that the jays could not find them, and the walk 
was continued. A search for beaver was suggested 
by Charlie, and Steve led them toward a stream 
which bordered the barren. There they found 
some fresh cuttings, but no sign of any lodges. 

“The beaver wander about a good deal at this 
time of year looking over the country and finding 
good places to settle in,” said Steve. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


67 

They followed the stream to its source, and there 
found a smaller one which came from a fairly 
large pond. 

“That looks like a good place, ’ ’ Steve remarked 
as they reached it, for he saw that there was a 
dam in very bad state of repair. His quick eye 
searched the borders of the pond and he said: “Sure 
enough, there’s a lodge. Now go very quietly and 
perhaps I can call out the beaver if they are in it.” 
Then he added, when the boys were within about 
forty yards of the tumble-down lodge, “You wait 
here”; and he crept forward very quietly to the 
edge of the water quite close to the lodge. After 
waiting a few minutes he leaned over and 
splashed the water with the axe, and began to 
call in a low, murmuring whine. For some time 
nothing happened, so he repeated it. By way of 
reply a few bubbles rose to the surface near by, 
and he held up his hand as a warning to the boys. 
A few moments elapsed and then a beaver ap- 
peared near the middle of the pond, but no sooner 
had he come to the surface than with a terrific 
slap of his tail he dived and was seen no more. 

“What frightened him, Steve?” asked Charlie. 

“Got our wind, so he won’t come up any more 
for a long while, and the slap on the water is the 
signal for any other beaver that may be about to let 
them know that danger is near, so they won’t 


68 


ADVENTURES IN 


come up either. That was only a young beaver. 
If it had been a full-grown one that signal would 
have been more than twice as loud; sounds almost 
like a gun going off. Sometimes when you are 
watching a beaver pond in the quiet of an evening, 
and that’s the best time, one of them will come up 
quite close without your seeing him. Then when 
he’s made you out for certain, he’ll give one tre- 
mendous crack on the water and mighty near scare 
you to death. After that, you might as well pack 
up and go home, for they’ll all keep out of sight 
for a long time.” 

On examining the lodge, the boys were greatly 
disappointed. They had expected to find a regu- 
lar story-book house. But this was the poorest 
type, built on shore over a burrow. In fact, it 
was nothing more than a mass of old sticks in a 
shapeless muddle. 

“Well, I don’t think much of that,” Charlie re- 
marked. 

“That’s not a regular house like you sometimes 
find,” Steve explained, “but if you came here a 
month or two later you would find it quite differ- 
ent. For as soon as the cold weather starts, the 
beaver will build this up till it’s a couple of feet 
higher, and plaster the whole thing over with mud 
except in the very middle, where the chimney is, 
so they can breathe.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


69 

“Do they really do that? I always thought 
that was one of the nature faker’s stories,” Mr. 
Sylvester said. 

“Oh, it’s true enough, I can assure you, for I 
have seen it hundreds of times; and in the very 
cold winter days you can see the steam rising out 
through that chimney quite plain. That’s how 
we find the houses and know they are lived in 
when everything is covered two feet thick with 
snow. Perhaps we shall find a proper lodge built 
on a small island that will give you a better idea 
of what they should be like, and perhaps we can 
find a good dam, too. This one is only a lot of 
muck from the bottom of the pond and there’s 
very little building about it. But some of the 
dams are hundreds of feet long and all built of 
logs and sticks.” 

“How I should like to see one,” said Charlie. 

“Well, perhaps I shall be able to find one before 
we leave. I might go off for a couple of days 
alone and hunt about, then if I find one I would 
take you to see it.” 

“And me, too,” cried Jack. 

“What about poor little me?” Evelyn asked, 
“Don’t you suppose I want to see it just as much 
as you boys? Mother, mayn’t I go, too?” 

“That will depend on what sort of a trip it is; 
however, we’ll see. The dam has not been found 


ADVENTURES IN 


70 

yet, so there is no use getting so excited just now. 
Let’s go along now and see what there is ahead of 

a 

US. 

The party soon came to a low hill, which had been 
burnt not many years before. All the trees were 
dead, standing or fallen, bleached silvery trunks 
and branches twisted and distorted, as though 
they had died in pain. The ground was found to 
be almost covered with low-growing blueberries, 
much to the boys’ delight, and they proceeded to 
tuck in to their hearts’ content, even though the 
berries were not thoroughly ripe. 

“I say, Evie, aren’t you glad we haven’t got 
any old pails to fill?” said Jack. 

Andrew heard the remark, and, with a curious 
smile on his face, walked away without saying a 
word. In about ten minutes he reappeared, car- 
rying a couple of good-sized birch-bark “bags,” 
and with a laugh he called out, “Now come along, 
boys, and let’s fill them up.” 

Evelyn thought it a great joke and told Jack 
to be more careful next time. The berries were so 
abundant that it took a very short time to fill the 
receptacles, and the boys were once more allowed 
to have a feed. 

“I think we had better be going back now, so 
that we can get a few trout for dinner,” Mr. Syl- 
vester remarked. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


7 1 


The idea met with general approval, and all 
started immediately for camp, picking up the 
bake apples as they went. The fishing proved 
most satisfactory, and before long enough trout 
had been caught to give sufficient both for dinner 
and breakfast. 

The primitive camp was a great success, and 
they were all surprised to find how warm they were 
even though they had but one blanket apiece. 
Mr. Pratt explained that the lean-to acted like a 
reflecting oven and caught all the heat from the 
fire in front. During the night there was a very 
heavy rain, but the shelter was so well made that 
they all kept perfectly dry, and the youngsters 
thoroughly enjoyed the experience. 

With the first peep of day the boys and Evelyn 
were up, as they wanted to catch some more fish. 

While they were casting among the eddies a slight 
sound attracted their attention on the farther side 
of the river. To their delight, a beautiful gray 
caribou doe came along, feeding near the water’s 
edge, followed by two playful fawns. Charlie 
crept back to the camp, and with great excitement 
told the others and urged them to come down as 
quietly as possible to see the animals. Without 
making any noise, they all made their way over 
the mossy ground and, hiding behind some bushes, 
they watched the graceful creatures. After a 


ADVENTURES IN 


72 

while, the doe became suspicious and, without 
making the slightest sound, she vanished into the 
bushes followed by the two fawns. 

“Weren't they beautiful?" said Charlie. “What 
a shame it is to think of killing them, but I didn’t 
know that caribou had two young ones, did you, 
Mr. Pratt?" 

“Oh, yes, that’s quite common, though of 
course they usually have only one. I quite agree 
with you that it’s a pity to shoot them, even 
the stags, for they are too easy to get, and after all 
the whole fun of shooting should be the difficulties 
that have to be overcome in getting near enough 
to the animals. But shooting caribou is rather 
like shooting barnyard cattle. It’s really the ex- 
cuse for taking a fellow off in the wilds that makes 
most of us enjoy going after them; and even then 
if you hunt with a camera you have just as much 
fun, in fact more, I think. I know I have photo- 
graphed a good many wild animals, and I cer- 
tainly had more excitement getting the pictures 
than I have ever had in shooting. Most people, 
however, haven’t got the patience necessary for 
that sort of sport, and again many of us have a 
streak of the savage still in us which makes us 
want to kill wild animals. Most of us have to go 
through it. It really seems to be quite natural 
to us, especially boys, and strange to say the boy 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


73 


who doesn’t have that inclination is usually a 
namby-pamby, no matter what any one says to the 
contrary. I wouldn’t give a rap for the boy who 
doesn’t at heart want to hunt, and so long as he 
does it decently, I expect it’s all right.” 

Charlie thought for a few moments in silence, 
then he said: “I can’t understand it. I want so 
much to shoot and kill, and then after I kill any- 
thing, except fish, I always feel rather sorry; but 
still next time I get the chance, I always want to 
do it again. It does seem funny.” 

“Most of us go through that, Charlie, and I 
don’t believe any of us ever understand our own 
feelings on the subject. It’s much the same as 
boys fighting. They don’t fight because they dis- 
like the other fellow, but simply to show they can 
lick him, and I think it’s about the way with shoot- 
ing. We simply want to show that we are cleverer 
than the animal, and we think that killing it in 
a fair stalk proves it. However, let us change the 
subject. It’s beyond us and we are not here to 
study psychology. How many fish did you catch 
this morning?” 

“Only four,” Charlie replied. “The biggest 
was about a pound and a half, but he did fight. 
Evelyn got a beauty, nearly two pounds, and Jack 
got five, I think. Don’t you want to come and 
have a try? and Aunt Mary, won’t you come, too?” 


74 


ADVENTURES IN 


So they all went back for their rods and were 
busily engaged in fishing, when Andrew came down 
and said: “Breakfast is ready.” That put an end 
to the sport, for all were ravenously hungry. 

“Now what shall we do to-day?” Mr. Sylvester 
asked, after the meal was finished. “We’ve got 
till about three o’clock before thinking of going 
back to camp, and it’s now eight-fifty. If any 
one has any suggestions, let’s have them.” 

“How is it farther up the river?” Mrs. Sylvester 
asked Andrew. “Is there anything of especial 
interest or is it just about the same as we have 
already seen. If it is, I should advise a good walk 
up to the rough-looking mountain. I’m sure we 
should all like that.” 

“Well, ma’am, the river up above is much like 
what you have seen, except that it gets much nar- 
rower, and the current is so swift you can’t make 
more than about one mile an hour. The first 
pond we strike is nearly six miles up. It’s smaller 
than the one we crossed and leads into some other 
still smaller ones. We’d be likely to find beaver 
up there, but it’s a good all-day job if we was to 
go to the best of them. There’s good trout fish- 
ing up there, too. The mountain you spoke of is 
about four miles away, and it would take a good 
two hours and a half to get there, wouldn’t it, 
Steve?” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


75 

“About tree ars go an’ two come back, I t’ink; 
dat no good walk for missus.” 

“Don’t you worry about me, Steve. I can 
go anywhere the others do, I can assure you,” 
laughed Mrs. Sylvester. “Boys, what do you 
think of it?” she added. 

“Oh, fine! We might see bears and caribou up 
there, mightn’t we, Andrew?” 

“Yes, it’s a great place for bears because there’s 
lots of berries, and where you find them that’s 
where the bears go at this time of year.” 

“All right, let us go there. We can take a 
little grub with us, and we should start as soon 
as possible,” said Mr. Sylvester, and then added: 
“Now come on, boys, get a move on; pack 
up the blankets so that we shall have everything 
ready to start back to camp as soon as we return. 
You can leave your rods out in case we have time 
to do a little fishing.” 

In ten minutes everyone was ready for the start, 
the bedding rolled and in waterproof bags, what 
was left of the food securely hidden from the jays, 
and the fire put out. For as Andrew remarked: 

“It is never safe to leave a fire. Some sports 
I know were camped out one time, and they 
had those nice waxed-silk tents; they went off 
shooting and was gone from daylight till almost 
dark. It was in November and the weather was 


ADVENTURES IN 


76 

awful cold. In the afternoon it snowed hard, and 
they kept saying to one another how fine it would 
be to get back to camp and get their camp stoves 
going, and all such talk; but when they got to 
where the camp had been, they found nothing 
much left. The tents had all burned up, the 
blankets was pretty badly scorched, and all their 
cartridges had gone off. Must have sounded like 
a regular fight while they were popping.” 

“But how in the world did things catch fire? 
for these woods seem to be always damp,” said 
Charlie. 

“So they are, but I expect a spark flew from the 
fire, for there was a strong wind blowing, and those 
tents burn like gunpowder. If it had been the 
common sort of tent, it would simply have made a 
hole in it. To tell the truth, I am always afraid 
to sleep in those new-fangled tents.” 

“Why couldn’t you put snow on them, or even 
water?” Jack asked. 

“ Simply because it would not stay on. But that 
reminds me of a funny thing that happened to 
chaps I knew. They told me that they had 
camped out in winter, and one of their tents had 
burned up. So they thought the best thing would 
be to throw water all over the others. It was 
down about twenty-five below zero, so the water 
froze as fast as they throwed it on, and soon the 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


77 

tent was just one big sheet of ice. Well, it hap- 
pened that they had to break camp all of a sudden, 
but when they came to roll up the tents, they 
wouldn’t roll. Just like boards they was. They 
couldn’t even break the ice off, it was stuck so 
tight. It took them I don’t remember how 
many hours to melt and scrape the ice away, 
and I don’t believe they ever tried that trick 
again.” 

The way to the rocky mountain led them past 
the beaver pond they had visited the day before, 
but this time they could not coax out the owner of 
the dilapidated lodge. She may have been not at 
home, and that was Steve’s explanation. Charlie 
noticed that there was very little timber growing 
round the beaver pond, and what there was con- 
sisted only of spruce and firs, neither of which 
furnished food to any extent. So he asked Steve 
what the animals lived on, and if they carried their 
supplies from the more distant woods. 

“These pond beavers use the roots of the water 
lilies,” he said, “when there are no trees near by. 
It saves them a lot of work, as they don’t have to 
store wood but go out under the ice whenever they 
want a meal, and simply pull up a root and take 
it into the house to eat. These roots are very 
light. You see, they float, and when we shoot 
a beaver that is living on them he doesn’t sink, 


ADVENTURES IN 


78 

especially if he has just had a meal.”* Steve 
took up a partly-eaten root which was floating 
on the edge of the pond to show the boys, and 
continued: “ These roots are not bad eating if 
one has nothing better, and many a man who has 
run short of grub has been glad to use them.” 

“How do you eat them?” Charlie asked. 

“To tell the truth, I have never tasted them at 
all, but I believe they can be either boiled or 
roasted, so the Indians tell me.” 

“You said just now that the beaver store up 
wood for winter food. How do they get at it 
when everything is frozen? for I have read that 
they don’t come out of their house except under 
water after the winter begins.” 

“That’s quite true, but they store their wood 
under water, quite close to the lodge.” 

“But how do they make it stay there? Why 
doesn’t it float away, or get frozen into the thick 
ice?” 

“That’s a very hard question to answer; but 
they do manage to anchor it to the bottom in some 
way, and they make such a big pile, twenty or 
thirty feet across and ten feet or more deep, ac- 
cording to the number of beaver that are in the 
lodge. We always believed that they can suck 


*This is an idea of the Newfoundlanders, which is not based on 
fact, but is implicitly believed in by many of the trappers. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


79 

the air out of the wood and make it sink, but the 
sports laugh at me when I tell them this, so we may 
be wrong; but I notice that none of those city 
chaps can tell us how they get the wood to the 
bottom and make it stay there. Many a time I 
have watched the beaver bringing wood to the 
pile, and I sometimes think they make it sink by 
keeping on piling up the brush on top and so sink- 
ing it, and when they get it caught at the bottom 
then they drag each piece as they bring it down 
under the water and stick it into the pile, because 
I have seen them dive with a branch and then the 
whole pile shakes, and the beaver comes up with- 
out the branch. It’s very hard to explain lots 
of their work, and I guess they have more brains 
than lots of people I have met, because they cer- 
tainly do the most wonderful things. If you 
were to read of the things they do, you would 
never believe them.” 

“Oh, I do wish we could find a good-sized col- 
ony and have a chance of seeing some of these 
wonderful things they do,” Charlie said with en- 
thusiasm. 

“It’s really too early to see them at work now,” 
Steve replied. “About the middle of October 
is the best time, then everything is going at full 
swing, lodges building, dams being put up or re- 
paired, and trees being cut; and some of the trees 


8o 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


are so big you would not believe it possible that the 
little animals could cut them down. Why, I have 
seen birches more than thirty inches through that 
they have cut, but they usually choose trees about 
six to ten inches, because they are much more 
easy to handle.” 


CHAPTER V 


THEY HAVE AN INTERESTING EXPERIENCE WITH BEAR 
—CATCH MORE FISH— RETURN TO CAMP AND LEARN 
A GREAT MANY MORE THINGS, AND THE HOLIDAY 
ENDS. THEY ARE BACK IN BOSTON 


N r OW we are coming to the berry ground,” 
said Steve, “and we had better keep very 
quiet as we might see a bear.” 

But nothing was seen except the tracks of a 
very large bear that had been making a meal of the 
blueberries. Steve and Andrew examined the 
tracks carefully and the rest of the party followed. 
Bruin had not been very serious in his work, but 
had simply eaten here and there as he walked 
through the burnt ground. 

“Fll bet he’s gone to that other patch over 
there, where we found the old chap last year,” 
Andrew remarked. 

The place he referred to was on the line to the 
rocky mountain, so they continued on their way, 
going cautiously and making no noise. Steve 
kept some distance in front, and after about half 
an hour, they noticed him crawling along as 
though he had seen something. Soon he looked 

81 


82 


ADVENTURES IN 


back and beckoned to them to come carefully. 
So all got down on hands and knees and ap- 
proached without making any noise. The stalk- 
ing was not in vain, for out in a small burnt patch, 
where berries were so numerous that the ground 
was tinged with blue, was an old she-bear and two 
well-grown cubs, all eating away with great gusto; 
the peculiar slopping sound that they made as 
they chewed the sweet berries was distinctly audi- 
ble. Steve greatly regretted the lack of a rifle, 
but the others only thought of the interesting 
picture, which would have been so entirely de- 
stroyed by shooting. 

For over half an hour they watched the 
family, and could scarcely refrain from laughing 
aloud at the antics of the cubs, as they cuffed each 
other and often stopped to play like a pair of chil- 
dren. Once in a while, when the mother had 
found a particularly fine lot of berries, one of the 
cubs would try to steal it from her, and would re- 
ceive a most convincing clout on the head for his 
pains. On one occasion, both the cubs approached 
her as she was about to enjoy an extra good lot, 
and as she turned to cuff one, the other cub made 
a grab at the fruit. Just as he got it, his mother 
turned on him and he bolted with a grunt of great 
satisfaction. 

His mother, however, thought he deserved a les- 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 83 

son in filial respect and ran after him. Round and 
round they ran — in ever-increasing circles, coming 
closer and closer to the very much amused specta- 
tors, until finally the cub made a bolt straight for 
where they were lying and came within about ten 
feet before discovering them, then regardless of his 
mother’s approach, he stopped, stood up, and stared 
at the strange creatures. His fond parent, think- 
ing only of the punishment she intended to inflict, 
came on, and rising on her hind legs dealt the cub 
a smart cuff on the side of the head, which sent him 
sprawling. 

At the same moment, she caught sight of the in- 
truders. A low grunt, and she stood up to her 
greatest height, with her two arms hanging by her 
sides, while she inspected them. Had she been the 
bear of the story-books and people’s fertile imag- 
inations, she would then and there have attacked 
and killed the whole party; but she was a “ really 
truly bear,” and as such she decided to bolt. Off* 
she went at a lively shuffling gallop for a hundred 
yards or so, followed by the surprised cubs, and 
then stopped and, turning round, took a long look 
at the party who were now standing. The two 
cubs, following her example, stood up, too. For a 
moment the boys thought they would be attacked, 
but the bears having satisfied their curiosity went 
off* arid were soon lost in the surrounding scrub. 


84 ADVENTURES IN 

“Aunt Mary, wasn’t that great!” Charles ex- 
claimed. 

“It certainly was. I don’t think I ever saw 
anything so interesting. What do you think of 
that, Andrew ? I don’t expect that even you often 
see such sights, do you?” she asked. 

“No, ma’am. We surely don’t. I never seen 
anything to equal it and I have been going in the 
woods since I was nine years old, but I was mortal 
afraid the old she-bear would come for us because 
they’re awful ugly when they have cubs, and I’ll 
bet if they’d been a bit younger she’d have made 
things lively for us.” 

“I say, E vie, wasn’t it luck we came this way?” 
said Charlie, as they walked along. 

“Rather; .1 never enjoyed anything so much 
in my life; did you, Jack?” 

“Never; but it’s jolly lucky she didn’t attack us. 
We wouldn’t have enjoyed that, I’ll bet.” 

“It made me shiver when she stood up and 
stared at us, and she was so close, but wasn’t it 
funny the way she knocked that cub down. I 
could scarcely keep myself from laughing out loud ; 
but when she looked at us she seemed so tremen- 
dous that I was much too frightened to laugh. I 
expect all of us were. Were you frightened, 
Dad?” 

“Well, to tell the honest truth, I was; for I 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


85 

have always heard such terrible stories of how wild 
animals will attack any one if they have their 
young with them, haven't you, Fred?" 

“Yes, but I confess that I believe most of what 
one hears on the subject is much exaggerated. I 
know of a fellow who caught a lion’s cub in East 
Africa, because he wanted to coax the parents near 
to him so that he could get a photograph of them, 
and though he and his men held the cub while 
it squealed, they never were able to coax the lion 
and lioness to come and eat them up. They 
would not come within two hundred yards in spite 
of the cub’s cries. So you see you can’t always 
count on what animals will do.’’ 

“ But I always heard that, no matter what hap- 
pened, a lion would invariably protect its young," 
said Jack. 

“That’s the common belief, but, like many other 
ideas of wild animals, it is not entirely correct.’’ 

“ How about the photograph ? Did the men get 
it?’’ asked Charlie. 

“No. Two hundred yards was too far away, 
and the fellow thought that, of course, the lions 
would come, and he kept waiting until suddenly 
they turned and ran off. Twice more they came 
back, but never within range of the camera.’’ 

“And yet I’ve seen deer and moose go nearly 
crazy when their young have been caught," said 


86 


ADVENTURES IN 


Mr. Sylvester. “I know we caught a young 
moose in the water one day, and the mother would 
certainly have capsized the canoe if we hadn’t let 
it go.” 

“That’s just it, George,” Mr. Pratt replied. 
“You can never tell what animals will do, and it’s 
the thing you least expect that generally happens. 
At least, that has been my experience.” 

“Andrew, what do the bears eat when there are 
no berries?” Charlie asked. 

“Pretty nearly everything, from caribou to 
salmon, as well as roots and all sorts of fruit and 
honey. I think fruit is what they like best, and 
as blueberries are the commonest and most easy 
to get they eat these more than anything I know 
of. From August till well into November, they 
can get all they want of them in the burnt lands, 
and unfortunately there are plenty of fires in this 
country.” 

“Doesn’t the frost spoil the berries?” Mrs. 
Sylvester inquired. 

“Well, it do take the sweetness out of them 
and spoils them for preserving.” 

“Do you use them much?” 

“Quite a bit, but preserving them takes so 
much sugar and the jars cost a lot; still, we put up 
a fair lot. You can keep them pretty well by 
sinking them under water. That is, if you don’t 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


87 


get a spell of warm weather. If you do they are 
likely to spoil, but if the water is cold enough and 
the berries are in right condition, they keep for a 
long time that way.” 

While they were talking, the party reached the 
beginningof thesteep climb up to the summit of the 
hill. The ground was covered with coarse granite, 
which was much flaked by the severe frosts and 
gave evidence of the severe cold of this region. It 
took the explorers nearly an hour to reach the peak, 
but the wonderful view of the country more than 
repaid their efforts. Below they could see the 
river up which they had come, and far off in the 
blue mist the sea was visible. Back of them the 
ground continued to rise in gradual slopes, most of 
which were covered with short scrubby growth 
through which granite protruded here and there. 

‘We might find some partridges up here,” 
suggested Andrew, so they went across the open 
stretch of country. They had not gone more 
than a quarter of a mile before they heard the 
sound of birds calling in the scrub. “That's 
them,” said Andrew. “Now spread out and 
walk fast, or they will run off and you won’t see 
them.” ’ 

All immediately did as he directed, and soon 
they had the pleasure of seeing the birds running 
ahead, stopping now and then on a piece of rock 


88 


ADVENTURES IN 


to have a look at the strange creatures that were 
disturbing them. 

“They are really ptarmigan not partridge,” 
Mr. Pratt announced. 

The birds were very little afraid and let the 
party come to within a few feet of them, then 
sometimes they would fly, but only go a few yards. 

“Let’s get some for dinner,” Jack suggested. 

“No, sir. The law’s on them and you’d get 
well punished if you killed them,” said Andrew. 

“Bother the law,” Jack replied. “It would be 
so easy to kill them with stones, and I suppose 
they are jolly good eating, aren’t they, Andrew?” 

“The best thing you ever tasted, especially the 
young ones.” 

Then Mr. Pratt added: “It’s a curious thing, 
you know what a poor bird the European ptarmi- 
gan is, dry and flavourless; well these are, as 
Andrew says, the best birds you ever put your 
teeth into. Many a good meal of them have I 
had, and they are deliciously juicy and with quite 
a peculiar flavour.” 

“Speaking of eating,” Jack remarked, “let’s 
have our lunch. I’m simply famished.” The 
idea met with general approval, and a place was 
selected near where a small and ice-cold spring 
flowed out of the side of the mountain. Soon a 
fire was started and before long the inevitable 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


89 


pot was boiling, ready for tea, without which no 
Newfoundlander considers a meal worth eating. 

Having satisfied the inner man, they all started 
back toward camp. On the way they saw a stag 
in the distance, but as the wind was behind them 
they made no attempt to get close to it, for as 
Andrew said, he would smell them half a mile 
away. This proved almost true. Before they 
were within six hundred yards, the big creature 
raised his head, sniffed a few times, then trotted 
off into the woods which encircled the barren. 

“What wonderful noses they must have,” 
Charles remarked to his uncle. “Just imagine 
being able to smell us at that distance. Wouldn’t 
it be fine if we could use our noses to hunt with. 
Think how easy it would be for us to find ani- 
mals.” 

“That’s true enough, but with the advantage 
we have in using firearms which kill at such long 
range, the wretched animals would have no chance 
at all. Even as it is, with our less acute hearing, 
and about equally good eyesight, we have things 
rather too much in our favour. That is why the 
game laws have to be made so strict. If we had 
absolute freedom to kill as much as some of us 
want, and there were no close season, the animals 
and birds would soon be exterminated. If that 
happened the greatest part of our fun on these 


90 


ADVENTURES IN 


trips would be gone. Nothing is more dreary 
than to go through country where there are neither 
birds nor animals. Some day I’ll take you to 
Florida and show you what real bird life is. There 
you see thousands of birds every day, and dozens 
of species. I know of nothing more delightful 
than to canoe along some of those Southern rivers 
and lakes and watch the endless number of birds. 
Then for animals, I think we shall have to get Mr. 
Pratt to lead us into some of the favourite East 
African hunting-grounds, so that we can see 
what he has often told us of; the vast herds of big 
game swarming over the veldt just as we imagine 
they did in the prehistoric days. We’ll try to 
arrange a trip there as soon as you two get through 
college.” 

“Would you take me, too, Dad?” Evelyn asked. 

“I expect we’d have to if you look so pathetic 
about it,” he laughed; “but you must learn to 
shoot well, for you never know at what minute 
your life may depend on a good shot. Girls 
who shut their eyes when they fire can’t expect 
to hit anything.” 

Everyone laughed, for that was what Evelyn 
always did. 

“It isn’t like up here where if you make a miss 
it simply means going without meat or losing a 
pair of horns.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


9i 


“Oh, I say, Andrew, is this whitish moss the 
stuff the caribou feed on?” Charlie asked, as 
they came to a place where the ground was thickly 
covered with reindeer moss. 

“Yes, sir, that’s their chief food, even when 
it’s covered with snow they dig their way to it. 
Men use it, too, when they are very hard up for 
food.” 

Charlie immediately picked a piece and tasted 
it. The result was a very wry face. 

“Why, you don’t eat it raw. It has to be 
boiled for several hours before it’s fit to eat. 
What it’s like then, I don’t know, but I reckon it 
ain’t up to much unless you are uncommon hun- 
gry, when anything tastes good, even snakes and 
frogs, I’m told, but I don’t quite believe that.” 

“I don’t know about the snakes, but frogs are 
really delicious. Why, you pay a dollar and a 
half for a small plate of them in Boston,” said 
Mr. Sylvester. 

“A dollar and a half for frogs! Well, they’d 
have to pay me a thousand times that amount 
before I’d touch them,” and Andrew shuddered 
at the very idea of eating such a delicacy. 

The party reached the temporary camp at two 
o’clock. The men suggested a cup of tea before 
starting, and as there was plenty of time this was 
agreed to. So while they lighted a fire the others 


ADVENTURES IN 


92 

had a try at fishing. The trout, however, were 
not rising, so they had very poor luck, getting 
only fourteen between them and they were not 
large. 

Soon after three they loaded up the canoes 
and headed down stream. The water was just 
the right height for a good run, and the canoes 
raced through the foam-flecked rapids as though 
they were alive and enjoying it. The boys 
thought it grand fun and were only sorry when 
they came to the lake, which meant a good stiff* 
paddle as the wind was blowing fresh, making the 
water too rough for comfort in the light craft. 
To be drier and safer, they skirted the shore which 
was strewn with the whitened limbs of dead trees, 
which looked like fantastic skeletons, and, as 
Evelyn remarked, it seemed as though a great 
battle had been fought between strange beasts 
and these were their bleached bones. 

Beyond a few fish duck (Mergansers) nothing 
was seen in the way of bird life. Somewhat tired 
from the long paddle against the wind, the party 
finally reached the river, down which, in spite of 
its roughness, it was decided to go by canoe rather 
than walk. The going was difficult and several 
times the canoes had narrow escapes. 

Once, while going down a rapid, one of the 
canoes struck a submerged rock, and had it not 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


93 

been for Steve’s quickness in jumping out, lifting 
the canoe, and jumping in again, it would have 
been swamped, as the canoe was about to swing 
broadside on to the swift water. It was a close 
shave, but no one was the worse except Steve, 
who got a thorough wetting. That, however, he 
did not mind in the least. No Newfoundlander 
minds water, if they did their life would be one of 
continual worry. 

The travellers arrived at camp thoroughly tired 
after the long day, and so hungry that they could 
scarcely wait for dinner to be served. Billy had a 
very mysterious smile when he told them the meal 
was ready. “And I surely hope you’ll like it,” 
he said. To their surprise, they found that the 
men had made quite a respectable table out of 
several boxes and some split birch. Also there 
were seats arranged for their greater comfort, but 
what interested the boys most of all was a large 
birch-bark boat-shaped vessel carefully covered 
with a strip of bark. What could be in that, they 
wondered ? Billy raised the lid when they were 
all seated and disclosed over a dozen fine, bright 
red lobsters. 

“Well, Billy, this is a surprise. Where in the 
world did you get them?” asked Mrs. Sylvester. 

To which the smiling cook replied: “A cousin 
of mine lives a few miles below here and he has a 


ADVENTURES IN 


94 

lobster canning factory, so I thought I ’d go down 
and see if I could get him to let me have a few, for 
I guessed they’d taste pretty good to you. When 
I got to his place they had just come from the 
pots and were cooking the lobsters. A fine catch 
they had, too. So he just gave me this lot and 
said as how he hoped you’d enjoy them, and 
if you wanted some more any time to let him 
know.” 

“ That’s extremely good of him,” she replied. 
“Couldn’t we go down some day and see his 
factory? I’m sure it would be most interesting. 
He would not object, would he?” 

“No, ma’am, he certainly wouldn’t. His old 
woman, too, would be awful proud to see you for 
she don’t often have a chance of seeing vistors.” 

Next morning, salmon fishing started again. 
The water was just right and the rain had brought 
in a great many new fish from the sea. Never 
had the family enjoyed such a day’s sport. 
Among the various members nineteen salmon and 
grilse were actually landed. Mr. Sylvester got the 
record for the day in point of size, his largest fish 
weighing twenty-four pounds. Jack and Charlie 
had each a salmon on at the same time in a small 
pool, so their excitement can well be imagined; 
fortunately the fish were small and could be con- 
trolled to a certain extent, but several times their 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


95 


lines nearly crossed, and only by frantic efforts was 
the situation saved. 

Charlie was very anxious that Evelyn should 
get a good fish, and, having had a rise from one 
that seemed a fair size, he left it and went for 
Evelyn, who was at a pool some way below. She, 
of course, was delighted at the prospect and fol- 
lowed Charlie as fast as the nature of the ground 
allowed. These two were devoted to one another, 
and nothing pleased him so much as giving her 
pleasure. 

Having reached the pool, he helped her to 
put on the right fly, and then stood by while 
she cast over the submerged rock behind which 
the fish was lurking. For fully ten minutes 
nothing happened, then a slight swirl showed that 
there was still hope, and at the next cast there was 
a mighty splash as the fish bounded half out of the 
water with the fly. Then the fun began, and poor 
little Evelyn had her hands full. In vain did she 
try to get in line, but the fish was too strong for 
her, and she had to let him have his way. Round 
and round the pool he went, jumping clear of the 
water every once in a while and scattering the drops 
in a glistening mass from his silver body. Several 
times the plucky girl nearly cried with the strain 
on her arms and wrists, but she would not give in 
that she was tired. 


ADVENTURES IN 


9 6 

“No, no,” she replied in a quivering voice each 
time Charlie wanted to help. “It's my fish and 
he's such a whopper, I simply must land him by 
myself; but please keep the gaff ready, for he must 
be nearly done.” 

But no, the fish was as fresh as ever, and 
kept her altogether over an hour wondering 
whether she could possibly hold on. Then sud- 
denly after a frantic rush from one end of the pool 
to the other, he gave up the fight, thoroughly 
beaten. The line was reeled in slowly and the 
salmon brought close to where Charlie was stand- 
ing in two feet of water. Very carefully he got 
the gaff in position, and with a well-aimed stroke 
killed the fish. He then dragged it ashore, and 
Evelyn collapsed alongside of it, while he did a 
regular wild man's dance of delight. 

“How much will he weigh, Charlie? About 
twenty pounds, I should think.” 

“Oh, no, Evie. About ten or twelve more 
likely; but didn't he fight, and you certainly did 
handle him jolly well. Won't they be surprised 
to see it in camp?” 

“But, Charlie,” she said, “I feel like a regular 
pig, for this would have been yours. You found 
it and you really ought to have it, oughtn't 
you?” 

“Never you mind, old girl, I've had just as 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


97 

much fun watching you as if I had caught it my- 
self. And anyhow I got one this morning just 
about the same size, so I’ve had my share. And 
I did so want you to get a big one. Til bet there 
are not many girls of your age that have caught a 
salmon that size. If you like, I’ll skin it for you 
and then we’ll get it mounted.” 

“Oh, that would be fine, and I can show it to 
that nasty Ethel Banks, who thinks she is the only 
girl that knows anything about fishing and is so 
proud of that miserable little bass that she has 
mounted in the dining room and shows to every- 
one. I should just like to make her feel cheap, 
for she’s so beastly conceited. But Charlie, 
how much will it cost to have it mounted properly? 
You know, I’ve got very little money left.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll have it done for a birthday 
present for you. It will just be about the right 
time and I have still got some of that money I was 
given last Christmas.” 

“Yes, but you were saving that up to get those 
books on natural history that we saw in the 
shop.” 

“Never mind those, old girl, they can wait, 
and anyhow I don’t need them so awfully badly.” 
Then, after a pause, he added : “ Let’s go along now. 
We’ve both had enough for to-day and we can 
show this beauty to the others as we go down the 


98 ADVENTURES IN 

river, then we’ll weigh it and I’ll get to work at the 
skinning.” 

They found Mrs. Sylvester watching her hus- 
band playing a pretty good fish, but he managed 
to have a look at Evelyn’s catch and congratulate 
her, while Mrs. Sylvester fairly beamed with pride 
and happiness at Evelyn’s good luck. On reach- 
ing camp the fish was weighed, and found to be just 
eleven and a half pounds. Charlie lost no time 
in starting the skinning, but he found it harder 
than he expected and his knife was not sharp 
enough. So Steve offered to help with his “crooked 
knife” which was as keen as a razor, and which he 
said was the most useful thing, next to an axe, that 
a man could carry. The skin was finally removed 
and rolled in salt, so that it would keep in good con- 
dition until it reached the taxidermist. By the 
time the results of the day’s catch were brought in, 
it was decided that a smoke-house had better be 
built. 

“It’s bad luck to build one until the fish are 
caught,” Andrew remarked, “for if you do you 
never catch any.” 

The smoke-house was a sort of rough teepee of 
bark and boughs and moss. Inside there were 
cross pieces of green wood from which the split 
and slightly salted fish were hung. Then a fire 
was started with red-hot embers from the camp 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


99 

fire and carefully smothered, so that it produced 
a dense volume of smoke. This would be kept 
going for nearly a week. 

The fishing during the next few days was only 
fairly good, and the boys got tired of casting for 
hours without getting a rise. So they decided to 
get Steve to teach them something about tree cut- 
ting. This he proceeded to do, showing them 
how to drop a tree exactly where it was wanted by 
making a clean, straight cut facing directly to 
where it should fall. The axes which the boys 
had brought with them did not satisfy Steve at all. 
The handles or helves were not nearly long enough, 
so that far too much energy was expended for the 
results obtained. 

“Now Til make you each a longer and better 
shaped handle,” he said, and forthwith went in 
search of a suitable tree. “Hash (ash) is the 
best,” he explained, “but birch will do,” and he 
soon found a young straight tree which would 
answer the purpose. With a few strokes of his 
keen-edged axe he had the tree down. After 
cutting it into two lengths, with the axe he pro- 
ceeded to trim these roughly into the required 
shape. Then taking out the always useful “crooked 
knife,” he soon had the clean white helves cut to 
the proper size and shape. Within less than an 
hour and a half from the time he had begun, the 


100 


ADVENTURES IN 


two axes were ready for use. What a difference it 
made. The new handles were long, light, and 
springy so that they exactly balanced the heads. 
With them the boys found they could cut very 
much better and with scarcely any exertion. 

“ Where can we get a knife like you have, 
Steve ?” Charlie asked. 

“I don’t know,” he replied, “but if you like I’ll 
give you mine when this 
trip is finished, as I have 
another at home, and per- 
haps Andrew will give you 
one, too. You will find 
them much more useful 
than those store knives.” 

“Will you swop yours 
for mine,” said Charlie, 
showing him his fancy 
store knife which contained everything from a 
pair of scissors to a clumsy instrument for taking 
stones out of horses’ hoofs. It had cost about 
six dollars, while Steve’s home-made contrivance 
was worth perhaps thirty cents in cash, though 
for practical work it was worth ten or twenty 
times as much as the more expensive one. Steve 
was not naturally greedy, but to be the proud 
possessor of that wonderful pocket compendium 
of tools filled his heart with pleasure, and 



BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


IOI 


he readily agreed to the “swap,” much to the satis- 
faction of both parties. Jack determined to try to 
effect a similar exchange with Andrew, and was able 
to do so a little later without the slightest difficulty. 

Poor Old John was very envious. “Td have 
been glad to give you three of those old crooked 
knives for one like yours,” he said to Jack. Un- 
fortunately, however, he did not happen to have 
one, let alone three. 

During the evening the boys used to enjoy sit- 
ting with the men and listening to their stories 
and experiences in trapping and hunting; of the 
great winter trips after caribou, when, armed 
with all sorts of weapons and often dressed in 
white, the native population would go in numbers 
back in the wilds where the caribou herded during 
the bitter cold weather; how they would drive the 
wretched animals past the men who lay concealed 
in the snow. Each man would let the herd go past 
and only fire at the last of the line, so that the 
other caribou would keep on going. In this way 
the people got the only fresh meat they ever tasted 
during the year. 

Now owing to the new and stricter game laws 
only three head could be shot by each person but, 
as whole families went together on these excursions 
and each member was entitled to three caribou, it 
would be difficult to discover who did the actual 


102 


ADVENTURES IN 

v><* 

killing. Sometimes on these hunts terrific snow- 
storms would cause great suffering and hardship, 
and many a time it was a question of whether 
they would ever get out alive. All the meat was 
dragged out on sleds, pulled by men and women, 
children and dogs. 

To all of these accounts the boys listened 
with the keenest interest and asked innumerable 
questions. In many ways the accounts of trap- 
ping proved most enthralling. Old John told 
how he had been off with a pal who during the 
winter had the misfortune to fall and break his leg. 
It was a thirty-mile tramp to where he could 
send word for a doctor. As soon as the doctor 
came by train the old man started off with him to 
cover the thirty miles of rough country. When 
about half way, a frightful blizzard made walking 
almost impossible. Their faces froze as they tried 
to beat their way against the icy wind and the driv- 
ing snow which cut their skin. For twenty-four 
hours they struggled ahead, not daring to stop 
except for breath, occasionally, and finally reached 
the hut, only just in time, for the man had fainted, 
and would undoubtedly have frozen to death 
within a short time, as the fire had gone out. 

The boys learned that trapping was not all fun as 
they had always imagined it to be. Andrew told 
them of two old cousins of his who had gone 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


103 

off, no one knew where. They claimed to have 
found a place where silver foxes were wonder- 
fully plentiful, and they took the greatest pains 
to conceal their tracks so that no one should be 
able to follow them. They said that they would 
be back late in the winter with skins enough to 
make them both rich men. Nothing was heard of 
the pair again, until during the following spring 
one was found crushed and mangled in an ice jam 
on a river. What had happened no one ever knew. 
The other man had never been heard of again, 
and it was more than two years since he had 
left his home, so full of hope. It was to have 
been their last winter in the woods, and so it 
proved. 

The lengthening evenings passed very rapidly 
with these chats, and the boys learned more than 
they realized. Unconsciously they were finding 
out how men live in wild countries, how they have 
to fight for the necessaries of life, and how they 
protect themselves against the many dangers which 
must be encountered by those who are pioneers. 

The party spent the days in fishing and explor- 
ing the surrounding country. Steve went off 
for three days in search of a good beaver colony 
but without success. Each beaver pond he found 
showed that the animals had been caught, for all 
the lodges and dams were broken and scarcely 


io 4 BEAVER STREAM CAMP 

any signs of fresh cuttings could he find. This 
was a great disappointment to the boys who had 
looked forward to seeing a really good colony. 

At last the holiday drew to an end. It had 
been in every way a great success. All had caught 
as many fish as they wished, and they had enjoyed 
every hour of each day. 

When the day for leaving arrived, it was with 
deep regret that they bade good-bye to the river 
that had given them such splendid sport, and to 
the camp which everyone had enjoyed. The 
journey back to Boston was entirely uneventful, 
and all arrived home ready to undertake whatever 
work lay before them. Evelyn’s salmon was 
mounted in due course and given to her by Charlie 
on her thirteenth birthday. It was shown in 
triumph to Ethel Banks, who remarked with indif- 
ference: “Not bad; but I hear they are very easy 
to catch.” 


PART II 


GETTING LOST IN THE WILDS 



















CHAPTER VI 


THEY GO TUNA FISHING AND THE LAUNCH BREAKS 
DOWN-A BIG STORM COMES— THEY SEE WHALES 
AND ARE WRECKED 

N EARLY two years have elapsed since the 
events chronicled in the preceding chap- 
ters, and now once more a trip to New- 
foundland is being planned. This time it is to 
be Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, and the party 
consists only of Mr. Sylvester, Jack, and Char- 
lie. Again fishing is the object of the trip; 
not salmon, but something very much larger 
and even more exciting, for they are after tuna, 
the biggest game fish that can be caught with rod 
and line. 

Along the coast of Nova Scotia the tuna are 
found during the summer and autumn, feeding 
on squid and herring. In point of size they make 
the salmon appear a mere dwarf, for they run up 
well over a thousand pounds, and their strength 
is so great that they will tow two men in a boat 
thirty or forty miles without any apparent effort. 

Such, then, is what is taking our friends away 
from the broiling heat of Boston on the 21st of July, 


107 


io8 


ADVENTURES IN 


Mr. Sylvester had some doubts as to whether he 
would be allowed to enjoy the six weeks he had 
promised himself for his holiday, for there was 
persistent rumour of European war in which 
practically the whole world would be involved. 
Such rumours had many times disturbed the peace 
of mind of the nervous and pessimistic. Mr. 
Sylvester, being neither the one nor the other, 
believed that the chance of such a war was too 
remote to worry about, and so he and the boys 
went fishing. 

A Nova Scotian fishing boat converted into a 
serviceable yacht had been bought, and with it a 
motor launch and a small boat known as the tuna 
boat. She was twelve feet long, sharp at both ends, 
very light, and very good in a sea. 

By steamer and train, Mr. Sylvester and the 
boys went to Liverpool (Nova Scotia). There 
they embarked on their boat, and sailed off 
with a crew consisting of a captain and two 
men, all of whom came from Tan Cook Island, 
which is famous for its men and its fishing boats. 
The captain, whose name was Blunt, had spent 
all his life fishing, and what he did not know 
about fish, boats, and the weather of this part of 
the world was scarcely worth knowing. Tuna 
fishing he regarded as a waste of good time. 

“What’s the use of bothering with trying to land 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


109 


one of them big tuna with that sort of tackle?” 
pointing at the thin linen line, small sharp hook, 
and short rod, “when with a shark hook and a good 
bit of rope you can be sure of them.” 

“Yes, but think of the excitement and fun of 
actually catching such an enormous creature on 
so small a line,” said Mr. Sylvester, who was 
quite prepared for this sort of argument. 

“Excitement, yes. You’ll find it’s excitement 
enough when you get one towing you out to sea 
at six miles an hour, like I saw one do to a chap off 
this very coast two or three years ago. The 
blessed fish towed him for nine hours, and then 
got off because the rod broke, and during the time 
he was gone we caught two, weighing about a 
thousand pounds each, with shark hooks while 
we was hauling our herring nets. It’s all right 
enough if it amuses you, and I only hopes you 
won’t have nothing go wrong; but I tell you 
honest, it’s dangerous.” 

“But that makes it all the better, doesn’t it, 
Dad?” asked Jack. “He doesn’t think we can 
catch one with this light tackle,” he added, as 
the Captain walked forward. 

There was a light breeze, and the graceful little 
schooner glided through the water like a huge bird, 
her bright tan sails gleaming in the afternoon sun. 
The plan was to go east along the coast to the first 


no 


ADVENTURES IN 


harbour, where they expected to find some fishing 
boats, whose owners would be able to tell them 
whether the tuna were about. As the wind 
gradually died down toward evening their speed 
grew less and less, until when they came to the 
mouth of the harbour the vessel had scarcely 
steerage way, but fortunately the tide was setting 
in and carried them up to where a small fleet of 
trim boats was lying. Coming near them, she 
anchored, and, as soon as the sails were stowed, 
the Captain went in the tuna boat to find out what 
the prospects were. He returned in half an hour 
with the bad news that the men had seen no tuna, 
but they had heard that some had been seen far- 
ther east. So it was decided that early next 
morning they would set out in search of the great 
fish, wherever they might be. 

As soon as day broke, the Sea-gull , for that 
was the schooner’s name, got under way in com- 
pany with the fleet, and a beautiful sight it was. 
There were about forty schooners, each as finely 
modelled as the most graceful yacht, with sails 
varying from snowy white to deep tan colour, run- 
ning out to sea with wings spread to catch all they 
could of the fair but light breeze. 

Outside the islands which guarded the harbour’s 
entrance, the Sea-gull parted company with the other 
vessels, which were off to visit their nets ten miles 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


hi 


out from land, and continued the course along the 
low rocky coast, where the surging breakers from 
the long ocean swell tore themselves to foaming 
atoms against the sturdy rocks. 

"IPs a bad coast, sir,” remarked Captain Blunt, 
"cruel bad, especially when the fog sets in, as it 
does with scarcely any warning. One minute the 
sun is shining so hot you need your straw hat on, 
and the next minute the fog has you tight. You 
got to keep your eyes open when you are round 
this neighbourhood.” 

At that moment, the boys both caught sight 
of a curious disturbance in the water some dis- 
tance ahead, and asked the Captain what he 
thought it was. For a few seconds he stared 
in silence. 

"Grampus, and a big school of them, too,” he 
said, and he quickly headed the Sea-gull toward 
them. 

"Shall we be able to get close enough to see 
them properly? and what are grampus? Fve 
read about them but cannot seem to remember 
what they are,” said Charlie. 

"They’re whales, small whales. Some calls 
’em black-fish. They come here sometimes to 
play about, like you see them doing over yonder, 
for a couple of hours or more, and then suddenly 
they’re gone.” 


1 1 2 


ADVENTURES IN 


Gradually the schooner came to where the 
grampus were playing. The Captain brought her 
down wind of them and then let her come to, so 
that she stopped almost still within a few yards 
of the great creatures that were playing, diving, 
snorting, and blowing fine columns of spray. 
They seemed to be in endless numbers, fully a 
hundred Captain Blunt estimated, and, wdiat was 
most strange, they paid not the slightest attention 
to the vessel, which was slowly moving into 
their midst. Some of the creatures appeared to 
be about thirty feet long, but it was difficult to 
judge with any accuracy, as they kept rolling 
one over the other in ceaseless confusion. They 
bumped against the sides of the vessel and made 
her shake from stem to stern, but still they paid 
no attention to her as she slowly gathered way, 
for the Captain was letting her sails fill. 

Soon the Sea-gull was clear of the last of the 
school and heading once more on her way. The 
boys were very anxious to know whether the gram- 
pus was of any value, and Captain Blunt said that, 
beyond oil, they furnished nothing worth bother- 
ing about so far as he knew. The oil, he had been 
told, was used especially by watch-makers. The 
boys continued to watch the seething mass of 
grampus for a long time when suddenly the 
commotion stopped. Evidently they had started 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


113 

off to sea again. Late in the afternoon the vessel 
was taken into a small harbour for the night, and 
the Captain ascertained from the local fishermen 
that no tuna had been seen. 

“I think, sir, we shall have to go up near 
Sydney, or perhaps even farther north along the 
Labrador or Newfoundland coast, for that is 
where I believe the fish are before they come down 
this way,” Captain Blunt said on his return to the 
schooner. 

The suggestion seemed a good one and the 
voyage to Sydney was undertaken. Fortunately, 
fine weather prevailed and they reached North 
Sydney without mishaps. From all information 
received, the tuna were not to be found in their 
usual haunts, and the general belief was that they 
had not yet appeared. Squid and herrings were un- 
usually scarce, so that gave colour to the inference. 

Accordingly the more northern waters were de- 
cided on, though the Captain said he feared the lit- 
tle schooner was rather small for the job. A stiff 
easterly breeze took the fishermen across the Cabot 
Strait, and they were delighted with the way the 
schooner behaved; her buoyancy was remarkable, 
and she took the heavy seas like a duck. Once 
under the lea of Newfoundland the sea was calm 
enough but the wind very gusty; severe squalls 
coming from the mountains made it necessary 


ADVENTURES IN 


114 

to carry very little sail and keep a sharp look-out. 
At night they always made harbour, as the crew 
was too small for night watches. 

On reaching St. Georges, they got in some fresh 
provisions and headed northwest, over toward the 
Labrador coast. 

After a couple of days of cruising about they 
met a small fishing boat, which reported having 
seen tuna on the previous day. This sounded 
hopeful and encouraged them just when they were 
beginning to think that the tuna were a myth. 

Following the directions they received regard- 
ing the whereabouts of the fish, and having secured 
some bait, they were delighted when, during the 
next morning, they actually saw tuna. It did not 
take them long to get ready. The two boys took 
the launch, while Mr. Sylvester with Tom Ander- 
son, one of the crew, went in the small boat. The 
weatherwas almost unnaturally calm and the water 
like oil. 

As they started away, the Captain warned them 
to keep a good look-out, for when the breeze came 
it might be bad. Mr. Sylvester dropped his 
baited hook into the water and slowly trolled 
along; suddenly a terrific tug nearly pulled the rod 
from his hands and the line simply flew from the 
reel. Fifty, a hundred, a hundred and fifty feet 
spun out and continued to go so fast that he did not 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 115 

dare put on the drag. When about six hundred 
feet had gone, and in order to relieve the strain, 
the boat was being rowed as fast as the man could 
make it go, following the fish, when Mr. Sylvester 
gradually applied the drag. The fish seemed to 
feel the resistance, and, giving a frantic jerk, broke 
loose. It was bad luck, but still encouraging, 
and the boys who were near by in the launch were 
greatly excited. On pulling in the line it was 
found to have parted where it had been fastened 
to the wire trace. To avoid a repetition of the 
disaster, a piece of thick leather was wrapped 
round the wire loop to prevent it cutting the line, 
and with this Mr. Sylvester again began trolling. 

For fully half an hour nothing broke the monot- 
ony of the sounds of rowing and the occasional 
chug-chug of the launch as the boys accompanied 
the boat at a distance of about two hundred yards. 
They got farther and farther from the schooner, 
which was lying becalmed, with her coloured sails 
flapping from side to side as she rolled gently on 
the oily swell. 

Whirr-r-r; another fish had struck, and once 
more the line flew through the water, and as 
the boat gathered way the drag was very 
gradually applied. The strain, as the line was 
checked, bent the stiff rod farther and farther. 
Soon the reel was held tight, and the boat was 


n6 ADVENTURES -IN 

being towed so fast that no rowing was required, 
but now and then when the fish made a partic- 
ularly vicious effort, it was necessary to let the 
line pay out. The launch, keeping astern and 
slightly to one side, followed, and the boys thor- 
oughly enjoyed watching the small boat dancing 
along over the water, scattering the spray from 
the bows and moving along at nearly five miles an 
hour towed by the unseen power. 

Dark clouds were banking up on the horizon 
and fitful gusts of wind disturbed the surface of 
the water, but no one noticed it. On and on they 
went, and once the huge fish leaped clear of the 
water with a wonderful display of power. For- 
tunately (or as it turned out, unfortunately) the 
hook held and the race continued. At the end 
of two hours the wind began to increase with 
alarming force, but still the fight with the fish 
went on. The spray from the choppy sea 
dashed over the boat and soaked the occupants, 
but their blood was up and they thought of nothing 
but the pursuit. 

In the meantime, something went wrong with 
the motor of the launch. It would go a few 
minutes then stop; finally it stopped altogether 
and the boat began to sail before the wind 
while the boys tried to find out what was wrong. 
So interested were they that for nearly half an 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


117 


hour they tinkered away without looking up, 
and when they did so the tuna boat had entirely 
disappeared. Far away they could discern the 
schooner, almost out of sight. The ever-increasing 
force of the wind made it necessary for the boys 
to keep well in the stern of the boat to prevent 
her swinging beam on to the sea, which was get- 
ting rougher every minute. 

“What in the world are we going to do, Charlie? 
It looks like a regular old-fashioned gale.” 

“Oh, cheer up. We’ll land somewhere. The 
wind seems to be shifting about, so that I have 
lost all idea of direction. There’s nothing in 
sight but water — beastly rough water, too; and 
look at that sky. Isn’t it jolly black? I expect 
we are in for trouble, but we must make the best 
of it. If we could only get the engine to go I’d 
feel better, because then, if we saw any land or a 
ship, we would steer for it; but as it is, we must 
be careful to keep straight before the wind or we’ll 
get swamped.” 

“Let’s put on our oilskins, so as to keep dry 
at any rate, because it’s getting beastly cold,” 
said Jack. 

Harder and harder blew the wind, carrying with 
it the crests of the white-capped waves and making 
the launch go with ever-increasing speed. As she 
went she rolled from side to side in an alarming way. 


1 1 8 


ADVENTURES IN 


and as the height of the waves became greater it was 
found more and more difficult to prevent her yaw- 
ing. Even with the greatest care occasional waves 
broke against the sides and splashed into her. 

“I say, Jack, we must really bail. Do you see 
how much water we have? It’s getting serious. 
I wonder if we can use the pump.” 

They tried, but it was slow work on account of 
the ceaseless rolling. In the end it was found eas- 
ier to bail with a large tin, but even this was nearly 
blown out of the bailer’s hands when he attempt- 
ed to empty it over the side, and usually most of 
the water blew back on board; but by watching 
for favourable moments the boys finally managed 
to get most of the water out. 

“I am glad we’ve got some grub on board,” 
Jack remarked. “It’s lucky Dad thought of the 
possibility of getting separated from the schooner, 
and had those tins of what he called emergency 
rations put in the lockers. I don’t know how you 
feel, but I am uncommonly hungry. You steer 
a few minutes, and I’ll see if I can get hold of 
something.” 

Charlie took the wheel, and Jack crawled for- 
ward to the locker and brought out a large tin. 
From this he took some biscuits and a tin of meat, 
which he carried aft after carefully closing the box. 
The food tasted good to the boys, who had eaten 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


119 

nothing since daybreak. It made them more 
cheerful and they talked over the prospects with 
greater hope. Late in the afternoon, while they 
were watching ahead in the hope of seeing land, 
they noticed the water breaking with particular 
force in two separate places. At first they feared 
it was rocks that caused the disturbance, when 
suddenly a jet of water shot into the air, to be 
blown away immediately. 

“ Whales!” the two boys exclaimed together. 

“By Jove! so they are, and we are making 
straight for them. What on earth shall we do?” 
Charlie said. 

“There’s nothing to be done that I know. We 
can’t steer to one side or we’ll be swamped by 
the sea, and if we go ahead the whales will swamp 
us. Not much of a choice. We must simply 
chance the whales. They may move away before 
we reach there.” 

But the mighty beasts were apparently staying 
in one place and that was directly in their path. 
On went the crippled launch straight for the un- 
avoidable danger. The boys looked at each other 
but said nothing. Each one thought that their end 
was near, but neither cared to say so. Nearer and 
nearer they approached, and then it was seen that 
the two whales were very slowly coming directly 
toward them and were about a hundred and fifty 


120 


ADVENTURES IN 


yards apart. As the boat was heading she would 
pass between them, but what if they turned ? That 
was the terrifying thought. There was nothing to 
do but sit quiet and await the results. As they 
got to within about fifty yards of the one on the 
right, it apparently saw the boat and headed for 
it, to the utter consternation of the unhappy boys, 
but still they spoke never a word, but stared as 
though fascinated by the great gray giant. An- 
other twenty seconds and they had passed it, not 
ten yards away. The swish of the water from the 
whale’s side struck the boat amidship and splashed 
aboard. 

“Well,” said Jack, in a tone of infinite relief, 
“that’s the closest shave I have ever seen. I 
certainly thought it was all up with us, didn’t you ? 
Why, you are positively white.” 

“I wish you could see yourself. Just look at 
your hands and knees; you look as if you had the 
ague. But I say, did you ever see such a sight 
as those big brutes? I feel as though I had been 
dead and had just come to life again. Whew! 
We don’t want any more excitement of that 
kind, thank you.” 

“I wonder what they would have done if we 
had really bumped into them?” Jack asked. 

“You can go back and try if you like, but please 
leave me here. I’m quite willing to watch you do 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


1 21 


the bumping. I don’t think you’d repeat it. Do 
you know, when I saw that creature coming so 
beastly close, I thought of all the pictures I had 
ever seen of whales chucking boats up in the air 
and the men falling out.” 

“That’s funny,” Jack replied, “for I had exactly 
the same thoughts. Well, we ought to take this 
experience as an omen of good luck. Having 
missed being killed this time, perhaps we are 
doomed to live on. Won’t Dad be interested 
to hear of it?” 

“Rather, and so will Evie. But I wonder 
where your Dad is, and if he has managed to 
land the tuna. I expect, however, he’ll have had 
his hands full saving himself, let alone the fish, 
and he’ll be frightfully worried about us. I 
don’t think he ever noticed that the launch had 
gone wrong and wasn’t following. He was only 
interested in that old fish.” 

Night came on, and with it there was no less- 
ening of the wind. The sea got rather worse if 
anything and seemed more choppy, as though the 
wind had shifted. No stars were visible, for the 
sky was a mass of inky clouds flying across from 
one horizon to the other. It was a long, long 
night. The boys took turns at the wheel and at 
trying to snatch a little sleep. They bailed at each 
change of the watch. 


122 


ADVENTURES IN 


At last, after what seemed an endless time, day- 
light appeared. A dark, murky day, made more 
disagreeable by frequent rain squalls which drove 
past and obscured the view. 

During a slight lull about nine o’clock, a simple 
meal was eaten; later the wind was less steady. 
Severe gusts were followed by comparative calm 
spells, which gave the boys a chance to rest. 
About three o’clock land was seen to leeward. 
At first this caused great satisfaction, but when it 
was seen that it was a rough rocky coast on which 
the waves were breaking with relentless fury, sat- 
isfaction changed to dismay. To be washed ashore 
there meant almost certain death, and there ap- 
peared no chance of finding a cove into which they 
could steer the drifting boat. 

For a few minutes they gazed ahead, wondering 
what they could do. Then Charlie suggested try- 
ing to anchor. It was a forlorn hope, but perhaps 
by doing so they could keep clear of the rocks until 
the wind died down. Anyhow, it was the only plan 
that suggested itself, and the boys got the small 
anchor ready with its rope cable and cast it over- 
board. For some time it did not touch bottom, 
owing to the depth of the water, but as they drew 
closer to the wave-beaten rocks it touched, but for 
a time did not hold. Only a little more than half 
the cable was out, as it seemed better to keep a re- 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


123 

serve and pay out gradually in order to prevent too 
great a shock if the anchor got fast. 

Suddenly, bump, bump, bump, it went over the 
rocky bottom until it struck something soft; then 
it held. The boys rushed to the bow in order that 
the stern might swing round, and paid out the cable 
until but fifteen feet remained. The boat, grad- 
ually checked in its speed, swung round head to 
wind, but in doing so shipped several waves. 

“Let’s get into the middle,” Jack shouted to 
Charlie, but his voice was almost drowned in the 
fury of the gale.* They both lay down so as to 
offer as little resistance as possible. Filled with 
dread, mixed with but scant hope, they watched 
the shore to see if they were still drifting. For a 
time the anchor dragged little by little and the 
boys began to lose hope, but at last it held and 
the launch pulled and jerked in vain. 

The question now was how long the rope would 
stand the strain and how long the boat would hold 
together, for the pounding was frightful. Watching 
for a favourable opportunity they wrapped an 
old jersey round the rope to prevent it fray- 
ing as it chafed against the gunwale and then 
they devoted their energies to bailing. This 
was most necessary, as the water kept splashing 
in at an alarming rate. If they could only have 
started the engine, it might have been possible 


124 


ADVENTURES IN 


to keep it going very slowly ahead and so take 
the strain off the rope, but nothing they could do 
had any effect on it, and after a long time they gave 
up the attempt. 

In the gathering darkness, the sound of the 
raging gale whistling and shrieking around them, 
the pounding of the boat, and the roaring 
of the waves as they spent their fury on the 
weather-beaten rocks, was terrifying beyond 
belief, but there was nothing they could do. 
Nothing but quietly await the end which they 
felt was bound to come before long. 

More and more water was coming into the boat. 
Evidently the seams were opening, and, in spite of 
the ceaseless bailing, the water gained slowly but 
surely. At length it was over their feet. The 
weight cf it going backward and forward increased 
the strain on the rope, and suddenly with a dull 
crash it parted. As a nervous horse might bolt 
from its halter, that boat reared and, swinging 
round, darted toward the seething shore-line. 

Hope dies hard, and the boys still hoped that 
they might be driven into a sheltered cove. They 
sat aft and steered, but the boat was heavy with 
water, and she lunged this way and that, scarcely 
paying any attention to the rudder. Closer and 
closer they drifted to the rocks. Only a few 
minutes at most remained before the smash would 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 125 

come. In the darkness the foam of the churned 
waters shone with a cold, ghostly phosphores- 
cent glow, which danced up and down the rocks. 
Another minute went and still another, and then 
the boat was lifted on a huge, white-capped, roar- 
ing wave and cast with a crashing, shivering blow 
on to the shore. 


CHAPTER VII 


THEY FIND THEMSELVES ALONE IN A STRANGE LAND 
A CAMP IS MADE AND THEY MAKE THEIR FIRST 
FIRE BY RUBBING STICKS 

D AWN was breaking. Dark, sooty clouds 
were drifting rapidly over the pale green- 
blue sky. A wind still blew, but with 
ever-decreasing force, a tired wind that had done 
its worst and was content to die. Among the 
rocks the sea danced and threw up glistening spray 
into the little pools of bubbling foam. Between 
the rocks there were splinters of white wood, 
parts of what a few hours before had been a proud, 
buoyant launch. Other wreckage lay strewn 
along a tiny stone-paved beach. 

Gradually the sooty clouds passed, a yellow 
sun climbed over the horizon and its warm rays 
tinged the country with gold. It was the morning 
after the storm. This part of the world had been 
bad-tempered, but it was sorry now and would 
try to make amends. Whatever damage had been 
done must be forgotten. The past has gone, only 
the present and the future should be considered, 
for they represented life. 

126 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


127 

The sunlight crept down the hillside until it 
came to a shapeless figure curled up at the foot of a 
dwarf spruce. It warmed the figure, and the fig- 
ure moved. One hand was raised and drawn 
across a blood-stained, swollen face. The eyes 
opened and blinked in the bright light. A look 
of extreme surprise came into the face; it moved 
again, as though to see if movement were possi- 
ble. Then the body was raised a little, and fin- 
ally Charlie Mason sat up and gazed about as 
though afraid to believe his own senses. 

He was alive, that seemed certain; but where was 
he? and what had happened? Then the hollow 
growling of the waves as they passed in and out 
among the rocks brought back the past. He re- 
membered the launch and the horrible gale, and 

the breaking waves and the But here his 

memory failed. Yes, he must have been wrecked 
and cast up here, or had he been conscious and 
crawled to this shelter which was but a few feet 
from some great wreaths of foam? Where was 
Jack? and at the memory of his friend, he got up — 
tried to jump up but was too stiff — and looked 
about. Oh, dear, how it hurt to walk; every bone 
and muscle in his body ached with a dull, stupe- 
fying pain. As he continued his efforts he felt 
easier, his limbs responded better to his will, 
and he walked with greater ease. 


128 


ADVENTURES IN 


Where should he look for Jack? On shore or 
in the cold green water, and he shuddered at the 
thought of what he might find if he looked over the 
edge of the rocks. But Charlie was by nature 
hopeful, and he refused to think that his chum 
might be dead. If one had been saved, why not 
both? For, after all, they had been sitting close 
together when the crash came and the same wave 
might easily have thrown both of them ashore. 
Walking slowly and painfully, he peered behind 
each rock, into each hollow, and among the scrubby 
spruces, but beyond the wreckage, which was 
strewn everywhere and which failed to interest 
him, he saw nothing of his friend; and he began to 
fear that the worst had happened. 

As he continued his search, he noticed a large, 
rounded rock at the lower side of the small beach; 
behind it was a dark shadow, as though there were 
a hole or cave in the bank. He limped over to see 
what it was, and to his infinite relief and delight 
saw a pair of feet projecting from the shadow. 
But the feet were absolutely motionless, and his 
delight of the moment gave way to an awful dread 
lest perhaps it was only a dead body he had found. 

Quickly he clambered over the rock, regardless of 
his own pain, to where Jack lay pale and still, so 
terribly still. On the side of his head there was a 
blood-covered gash, which accentuated the pallor 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


129 

of the face. Charlie knelt down and felt the 
hands. They were cold, and his own fingers trem- 
bled so much that he could not be sure whether the 
pulse was beating. Then he placed his hand 
over the heart. Was it imagination? or was it 
really beating? He tore open the clothes and put 
his ear against the chest. The skin was dis- 
tinctly warm, and yes, he was sure he could hear 
the heart throbbing. 

His friend was alive, that seemed certain, 
and he quickly picked him up and carried him 
out of the dark, cold shadow up on the bank 
where the sun was shining. The warmth, he 
thought, would be the best thing and he began 
to rub the cold hands. He then took off the boots 
and chafed the still colder feet until a slight glow 
suffused them. For a long time he continued this 
treatment, and then came the reward. The body 
moved, and soon Jack’s eyes opened. At first 
they seemed to see nothing and closed again. 
Colour was beginning to tinge his face and Charlie 
rubbed harder than ever. Once more the tired 
eyes opened. They stared at Charlie, who said: 

“Come on, Jack, old chap, wake up. You’re 
not dead, you know. We’re safe on shore, thank 
goodness.” 

By way of answer, Jack slowly stretched himself, 
and looking hard at Charlie, said: “By Jove, I 


ADVENTURES IN 


130 

thought it was all a dream; but what has happened 
to me? I feel as sore as if I had been well beaten; 
and where are we? and where’s the launch?” 

“Here, sit up and take a look around, and you’ll 
know as much as I do,” and he helped Jack to 
sit up. “Now where do you think we are ? Blessed 
if I have the least idea, but I expect it’s either 
Labrador or Newfoundland. I don’t think it’s 
Cape Breton, and that’s about the only other 
place we could have hit. As to the launch, she’d 
make good firewood, and that’s all. Speaking 
of a fire, let’s light one,” and he put his hands in 
his wet pockets. “Guess again. We’ve no 
matches.” 

“Well, I’ll be hanged”; and Jack smiled as he 
said it. “No matches, apparently nothing to 
eat, and no one knows where we are. Looks as if 
we would have to get up and get a move on if we 
don’t want to die in this place.” 

“That’s it. Now I’ll pull you up and perhaps 
you can shake the stiffness out of your joints.” 
With that he helped Jack to his feet. 

“Great Caesar, how my head does ache! Some- 
one must have hit me,” and he drew his hand 
across his blood-covered forehead. “Makes me 
feel rather wobbly,” and he sat down again. 

Charlie then went down to the sea and soaked 
his already-wet handkerchief in the cold salt 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 13 1 

water and bathed Jack’s head. When the blood 
was washed away, it was found that the cut was 
not a serious one. The cold Water revived him 
greatly, and Jack got up and was soon able to walk 
unaided. 

“Now look here, Jack, the first thing we’ve got 
to do is to look for something to eat, for I feel as 
though my backbone was getting entangled with 
my ribs. It must be many years since we last 
had any food.” 

“That’s just how I feel, and I begin to wonder 
whether we have been here lying unconscious for 
several days, or whether it was really only last 
night that we landed on this kind and hospitable 
shore. Let’s see if by chance any grub has washed 
up from the launch.” 

They examined the rocks and beach very care- 
fully, and found many things belonging to the 
launch, including a tuna rod with its tip broken, 
an oar, a bundle consisting of a pair of rubber 
boots, an old oilskin, and a sweater. These they 
threw up on the bank to dry. The reserve rations 
which they knew had been on board could not be 
found. The question was, where could they have 
gone ? Suddenly an idea came to Charlie. 

“Look here, Jack, we evidently landed here 
somewhere near high tide. Otherwise you would 
certainly have been drowned, for you were just 


ADVENTURES IN 


132 

about the edge of the high-water mark, and that 
was, I should think, about ten o’clock last night. 
It is now about nine or ten.” Here he uncon- 
sciously pulled out his watch. “Hang it all, the 
beastly thing has stopped. Must have forgotten 
to wind it up last night.’’ 

“You careless chap,” laughed' Jack. “Tne idea 
of forgetting such an important thing when you 
were about to come to a strange land. Now we 
shall never have the right time.” 

Both boys opened their watches, and of course 
found they were filled with water. 

“Well, go on, Mr. Wise Man, and let’s have the 
rest of your remarks.” 

Charlie continued: “As I said, it’s now about 
nine or ten, so the tide is probably still rising. 
When it goes down we shall find most of what is 
left of the launch, and I expect the reserve rations 
will be deposited somewhere among the rocks. In 
the meantime, let us go off and search for some 
berries, which will have to do until we can get some- 
thing better, and at the same time we can have a 
look round and see what is back of us.” 

“Right you are, but go easy on the walking, for 
I feel very stiff in the joints.” 

The country back of the shore was mostly rough 
scrub, with occasional open barrens and patches 
of thick woods. Farther back the land rose toward 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


133 

a long ridge of rough-looking mountains. On 
investigation the barrens were found to contain 
a great many bake apples, which were most wel- 
come, and the boys made a meal of them — not very 
satisfying it is true, but better than nothing. 

Jack found walking a difficult job, and suggested 
returning to the shore. Charlie accompanied 
him, and then set off along the coast to see what 
was below. For a mile or more there was no 
break in the line of low, rocky cliffs. But a little 
farther along there appeared to be a shallow bog,' 
from which an irregular, thickly wooded valley 
ran inland. So he continued on his way and at 
last came to the bay which proved to be the mouth 
of a fair-sized river along the heavily timbered 
banks of which was some beautiful camping 
ground. This was most satisfactory, and Charlie 
returned with the good news to Jack, who was 
lying fast asleep. It seemed almost a pity to dis- 
turb him, but there was a great deal to be done 
and they must make the most of their time, for the 
tide was rapidly falling. Accordingly, he awak- 
ened the sleeper, who stretched and yawned and 
got up feeling all the better for the rest. The 
search among the rocks was amply rewarded, for 
they found the tins of reserve rations hidden in a 
deep cleft and the contents were none the worse, 
as the friction tops had kept the water out. The 


ADVENTURES IN 


i34 

food if used with great care would be sufficient to 
last about eight days if they had nothing else, 
and during that time if they saw no chance of 
being rescued, they could prepare for a long stay, 
if such proved necessary. After eating a few 
biscuits and a piece of chocolate, the boys con- 
tinued their search and found the engine of the 
launch in a shallow pool. 

“I don’t suppose it’s of any use to us, but we 
might as well save it,” said Charlie, and between 
them they got it up on the bank clear of the high 
tide. 

The petrol tank, sadly battered about, was 
also found. Beyond these things there was little 
to be picked up, except the woodwork of the boat, 
every bit of which was carefully piled up in case it 
should be needed. As Jack remarked, there was not 
much with which to start housekeeping, but each 
had his “ crooked knife” as well as a pocket knife, 
so they had much to be thankful for. In the imme- 
diate vicinity of the wreck there was no birch, nor 
any fresh water except in the bog holes, so it was 
decided to move over to the river where they could 
be more comfortable. 

“The first thing to do is to make a bark shelter 
so that we shall be able to keep dry in case of rain, 
and near the river there are any number of fine 
big birches. So let’s be off*,” said Charlie. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


135 

They started immediately, carrying their small 
food supply, the tuna rod, and the bundle of clothes. 
The walk, though less than two miles, seemed very 
long for they were tired and extremely sore. The 
afternoon was getting along when they arrived, so 
there was not much time to waste. 

After a careful examination of the ground, they 
found a delightful place for their camp. It was on 
a high bank overlooking the river, high enough to 
be safe from any danger of floods, for they noticed 
that the line of the ice-scarred trunks of the trees, 
which marked the early spring floods, was fully five 
feet below them. Between two large, smooth- 
barked birches they started the lean-to. In the 
woods they found poplar saplings which were small 
enough to be easily cut with their “crooked 
knives,” and with them the framework was 
quickly made. Then great slabs of bark were 
peeled and laid on the frame, and covered with 
heavier pieces of wood to prevent their blowing 
off. 

It was only a rough structure, but for the time 
being it would serve their needs. 

Now came the question of a fire. They had no 
matches and no flint and steel. Both had j read 
about making fires by rubbing sticks as described 
in one of Ernest Thompson Seton’s books,* but it 


* “Book of Woodcraft.’ 


ADVENTURES IN 


136 

was too late to undertake any experiments in that 
line, and so after eating a couple of biscuits from 
their slender store, they lay down on a bed of 
boughs wrapped in their torn oilskins and were 
soon fast asleep. 

Not until the sun had been up several hours did 
the boys wake. They were very stiff but greatly 
refreshed and exceedingly hungry. A good wash 
was the first thing; then came the question of 
breakfast, and at Charlie’s very practical sugges- 
tion they went off in search of berries. After an 
hour’s hunt, they found both wild raspberries and 
bake apples in abundance. These were collected 
in a bark pail and carried back to camp, where 
with some more of their precious biscuits they 
made a good meal. As soon as this was finished 
Charlie suggested that some definite plan of action 
must be made. 

“You see,” he said, as he sat on a large moss- 
covered log, “we don’t know where we are, which 
means we don’t know which way to go to get 
out. All of which means we must stay here for 
awhile, at any rate. There’s a chance that 
your father may come in search of us, as Cap- 
tain Blunt would have some idea which way we 
should drift. Now if they cruised along here, 
the only way we could signal to them would be by 
smoke, which means a fire. Then if we are to stay 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


137 

here any length of time we must eat, and all we 
shall find will be fish and meat, both of which 
must be cooked, so it looks to me as if the very best 
thing for us to do is to get a fire started. We have 
no matches and no flint and no gunpowder, so 
it seems as if the only way left is stick rubbing. 
Neither of us has ever tried it, but I think I re- 
member reading how it is done and we might as 
well have a try.” 

“It will take some time, Til bet,” said Jack, 
picking up a stick and absent mindedly whittling 
one end of it to a fine point, “if I remember 
right you have to have just the right sort of wood. 
Do you know what it is?” 

“No, Jack, I don't,” Charlie replied, trying hard 
to recall what he had read on the subject, “bilt I 
think juniper” (the Newfoundland name for 
Tamarack) “or fir, or even cedar will do, but we 
need first of all a stone for the drill socket. So 
let us look for one along the side of the river.” 

It was some time before a stone was found 
with a smooth depression which was deep enough 
to hold the drill. Then a bow was cut. This 
was about two feet long. From Charlie’s 
pocket various sorts of string were produced 
and a good, strong piece selected for the 
bow-string. Now all that was needed was a 
piece of flat wood with a niche cut in it and some 


ADVENTURES IN 


138 

punk and shavings, and last but not least a suit- 
able drill. With no axe they had some trouble in 
getting the flat piece for the fire board, but at 
last they found where a balsam had been split, 
apparently by lightning; the tree ha4 fallen, 
leaving long flat splinters. These were perfectly 
dry and seemed suitable. For drills they got sev- 
eral different wood s in the hope of having one that 
would answer. Punk was easily found, and for 
shavings they took birch bark, shredded and 
rubbed up fine. Bringing all their material to 
the camp, they collected plenty of birch bark and 
dry firewood and then settled down to try their 
skill. It was quite evident that the dry bow-string 
would soon fray, so they soaked it in water and 
then began operations. For some time there was 
no result. The drill revolved well enough, but 
no fire came. After twenty minutes of vigorous 
work they were getting discouraged, when a slight 
smoke arose from the fire board and then a spark 
or rather a tiny coal formed. 

“Oh, Charlie, it’s coming, it’s coming !” Jack 
cried. “Rub harder. ,, 

But Charlie was over-anxious and he leaned 
too heavily on the drill, it broke at the critical 
moment. Another piece was quickly substituted 
and once more the drill began to spin, and at the 
end of a few minutes the smell of smoke was fol- 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


139 

lowed by a distinct though small column of smoke. 
Jack blew for all he was worth, while Charlie 
rubbed harder and harder. The fine burning 
powder dropped onto a wooden chip below on 
which had been placed some punk and fragments of 
a mouse’s nest, which the boys had found and 
which they knew to be excellent tinder. 

The spark thus obtained went out, unfortunately, 
before it ignited the tinder. Then Charlie hit 
on the idea of blowing gently the ember until it 
broke into a tiny blaze which was applied quickly 
to the pile of fuel consisting of bark and small 
twigs, and soon a good fire was blazing to the 
intense delight of the boys. In order to avoid 
having to repeat the operation, which was de- 
cidedly hard work, they got a lot of punk and 
made a hole in the ground into which they put it 
when thoroughly alight. This, covered over with 
moss, would keep smouldering for a long time and 
be useful in case the fire itself went out. 

“Now what shall we do next?” Jack asked 
with his usual desire to make use of every pos- 
sible excuse to indulge in his Nimrod propensities. 
“Catch some fish or kill a rabbit, so that we shall 
have something to cook?” 

“Let us see what we have in these old pockets,” 
Charlie replied, for he had hopes of finding a few 
disused flies. 


ADVENTURES IN 


140 

All pockets were then turned inside out, and a 
strange collection of things came to light. An old 
fishing coat always has surprises in it, and now 
the boys found several dilapidated salmon flies, 
both small and large, and a card of cheap mixed 
trout flies which had been bought at a country 
store. Jack laughed when he pulled it out. 

“Do you remember the day we got this, Charlie, 
up there at Little Creek? We had not a single 
coachman left and that was the only fly the trout 
were taking, so we went into the little general store, 
but they would only sell us these cards of ‘one 
dozen assorted.’ We turned up our noses at the 
rotten things then, but little we knew how handy 
they would prove. There are eleven flies left, for 
we only used the coachman.” 

Then there were bits of line and old leaders, 
swivels, split shot, and a couple of worm hooks. 
Rubbishy as it was, it represented untold riches 
now, for it in all probability meant food. A 
couple of thin rods were very soon cut. To each 
of these a short piece of line and a fly were at- 
tached, and the boys went down to the mouth of 
the river in the hope of finding some sea trout. 
With the utmost care they fished, for the fear of 
losing their tackle was great. 

Fortunately, sea trout are not fastidious, almost 
any tackle will do for them, and soon the boys 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


141 

were busy trying to land some very lively fish. 
They had no landing nets and dared not risk lift- 
ing them out of the water, so as each one was 
hooked it was carefully steered to shore and 
beached in a sandy pool. In a couple of hours 
they caught fifteen nice trout, varying from half 
a pound to about a pound and a half. These 
were quickly cleaned and carried in triumph to 
the camp. Those to be eaten were split open and 
toasted on sticks, the others were buried in cold 
sphagnum moss, so that they would keep well. 

Never were fish more thoroughly appreciated. 
Even the absence of salt was scarcely noticed, as 
the crisp brown flesh vanished. It was a meal to 
be remembered. Everyone who is fond of out- 
door life enjoys the most primitive things; and 
certainly this meal was primitive, for the boys had 
made the fire as the oldest African savage made it, 
and the fish were cooked without utensils or con- 
diments. The only thing the boys regretted was 
that they had caught the fish with artificial flies 
and silk line and they determined to remedy that 
as soon as possible. The fish must be shot with 
bow and arrow, they declared, then they would 
taste still better. 

In their' first desire that everything should be 
primitive, they little realized what lay before them 
and how they would be forced to fight for existence 


ADVENTURES IN 


142 

without the aid of practically any of the resources 
of civilization. It would be strictly a combat of 
first principles. 

On the chance of being seen by any passing 
vessel, it was decided to build a smoky fire on a 
prominent place near the coast, and with this idea 
in view they set out to prepare the fire, so that in 
the event of strong wind it would not spread. 
Near the mouth of the river on a rocky headland 
was found a place that would answer the purpose. 
Here they built a circular wall of stones, against 
which sheets of thin turf, pulled up from the rocks, 
were laid so that no wind could get through. The 
wall enclosed a circle about ten feet across and was 
nearly four feet high. Into this enclosure they 
brought some burning logs from their camp fire, and, 
piling these up with driftwood, soon had a roaring 
fire which within an hour became a bed of glowing 
embers. Over this, turf and moss and punk were 
piled, and soon a column of dense blue smoke 
rose skyward. 

By any one searching the coast it could easily 
have been seen several miles away, for inland was 
the dark forest as a background. 

After gathering a supply of material with which 
to replenish the fire, the castaways left it and re- 
turned to the camp. The lean-to required atten- 
tion and needed some more work to make it com- 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


i43 

fortable in case of severe rains, and better beds had 
to be made. Not having waterproof ground sheets, 
they cut large slabs of birch bark and placed them 
over the spongy moss, and on this flooring a deep 
layer of boughs formed a splendid bed. The next 
thing was to gather a good supply of firewood, be- 
cause the nights were cold and they had no bedding 
except their oilskins and sweaters and the one 
sweater which had been washed ashore. These, of 
course, were most welcome, but still a fire out- 
side the lean-to was necessary, and as they had no 
axe all the fuel they collected had to be either drift 
or fallen timber. Having completed these various 
tasks the boys decided to go out for a supply of 
berries, for these and fish were to form their chief 
food. 

“What a pity we cannot preserve these bake 
apples,” said Jack, as they gathered the bright 
yellow berries into the bark pails. “They will 
soon be past, and they are jolly good. I don’t 
suppose they would keep under water, as Andrew 
said the blueberries would. They are much too 
soft.” 

“Look here,” Charlie answered, “I have an 
idea. Do you remember on the launch we had 
several tins of petrol. Now if we could find those 
and clean them out thoroughly, why couldn’t 
we fill them with bake apples, cook them in the tins, 


144 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


and close them up tight while they were still boil- 
ing, just as Aunt Mary does with her preserves. 
I am sure they would keep. Let us go back to- 
morrow to the wreck and see if we cannot find 
those tins. They must be somewhere about. ” 

“By Jove, that’s a jolly good idea of yours, Mr. 
Wise Man. We’ll start immediately after break- 
fast, and now I think we’ve got enough for a couple 
of meals, so let’s get back and cook a fish or two, 
for I am beastly hungry.” 

Therefore, the wanderers returned to camp and 
made a good meal of roasted trout. Not having any 
dishes to wash, they turned in as soon as they had 
finished the meal and slept soundly till morning. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THEY SHOOT A HARE AND SOME SALMON WITH BOWS 
AND ARROWS, AND LEARN TO LIVE OFF 
THE COUNTRY 

W HILE they were cooking their breakfast, 
Jack suggested that a little salt would be 
a great addition to the fresh fish. The 
air was so damp there did not seem much chance 
of finding any on the rocks, so he proposed that 
they find a stone with a slight hollow in it. By 
putting this near the fire it would become warm 
enough to evaporate salt water and so furnish 
them with salt. The idea seemed an excellent 
one, and Charlie added: 

“We can make the filling of the stone basin 
automatic. All we have to do is to make a birch- 
bark bag which will leak very slowly. This filled 
with salt water can be hung over the stone and 
kept full all the time. I’m sure it will work. We 
will do that this afternoon. It looks as though 
we shall have plenty to do in this place, if we want 
to keep alive and be fairly comfortable.” 

“You bet,” replied Jack, “but I call it great 
fun, don’t you, a sort of Robinson Crusoe duet. 


ADVENTURES IN 


146 

I wonder how long we shall be here? It’s all well 
enough at this time of year, but when the winter 
comes, it’s going to be frightfully cold, and we 
shall have all we can do to keep from freezing 
and starving. ,, 

“ Don’t worry; if we are still here we’ll manage 
in some way or other to keep going. What I 
dread are the long evenings with nothing to do 
and no lamps. We’ll certainly have to build a 
good solid house if we expect to be able to stand 
it. However, don’t let us worry about things 
too far ahead. This is only August and the cold 
doesn’t really begin till well into November. Inci- 
dentally, that reminds me that we should keep 
track of the days, or we shall not know when we 
came or anything. A tally stick will do for now, 
with a notch cut for each day. In the meantime, 
let’s be off.” 

It was a glorious fresh August morning. The 
country was looking its very best. The dew on 
the grass sparkled like crystals in the early sun- 
light. It was a positive joy to be living on such a 
day, and the boys romped along the sea front as 
happy as larks, entirely forgetful of the terrible 
anxiety of those who were searching for them in 
vain. 

On arriving at the scene of the wreck, the boys 
found the tide very low. This gave them a 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 147 

good opportunity to hunt for the missing petrol 
tins. For a long time they found no sign of them, 
and were about to give up the search in despair, 
when Jack caught sight of something bright in 
the water a short distance from shore. What it 
was he could not make out, so he undressed and 
waded in. The water was bitterly cold, but for- 
tunately it was shallow. The object proved to 
be one of the tins, and he brought it out with 
great triumph and returned to continue his search, 
which resulted in discovering two more of the 
much-desired tins. All were full of petrol and, 
of course, none the worse for being in the 
water. 

The delight of both boys was unbounded. But 
the question was what to do with the petrol. So 
far as they could see, there would be no use for it, 
while the empty tins would be most useful. With 
great reluctance they were emptied and carried 
back to camp. The supply of fish being rather 
low, it was decided to spend the afternoon trying 
to catch more, and arranging the salt-water 
evaporator. Then they could devote the next day 
to picking berries. 

The fish were not rising when the boys tried, so 
after spending an hour and having no luck, they 
gave up the attempt and went in search of a suit- 
able stone for the salt experiment. At length one 


ADVENTURES IN 


148 

was found which was fairly flat on one side and 
slightly hollow on the other. This, after being well 
scrubbed with sand, was carried to camp and ar- 
ranged on a couple of other stones, so that it stood 
over the fire. 

The next thing was to make a large bark bucket, 
and this proved far more difficult than they ex- 
pected, as the bark broke when bent too sharply. 

“Let’s soak it and then steam it,” Charlie 
suggested. 

This was done and the result was thoroughly 
satisfactory. In a very short time a bucket was 
made which was very nearly water-tight. In fact, 
it leaked only just enough to answer the purpose 
for which it was intended. Cord of any kind 
being very precious, the bucket was fastened to- 
gether with strips of “withe-rod” (a viburnum 
having very tough, pliable wood which the boys 
had seen used when they were last in Newfound- 
land) and fastened to a forked stake, so that it 
hung over the stone. As this got hot the water 
evaporated almost as fast as it fell, and the boys 
waited anxiously to see the salt deposited. This 
would mean a matter of many hours, so they 
returned to the fishing. They found the trout 
rising well and succeeded in getting a good catch 
during the remainder of the afternoon. 

In the meantime, the smoke fire had been kept 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


149 

going in order that the blue column should con- 
tinue its mute appeal for help. 

Next morning, the boys got up early and were 
delighted to see a white incrustation on the salt- 
gathering stone. They scraped off a little and 
rubbed it on the fish and found it a very great 
improvement. Having eaten breakfast, they re- 
filled the water bucket, tended the camp and smoke 
fires, and then started off for berries, carrying with 
them two of the petrol tins which had been care- 
fully cleaned. The whole morning was spent 
in filling them with bake apples. These were car- 
ried back to camp, and after a little water had 
been added to prevent burning, they were put on 
the fire. As the berries cooked they settled in the 
tins, so more were added in order that the tins 
might be kept quite full. At the end of an hour the 
fruit seemed properly done. The tins were taken 
off the fire and the tops firmly screwed on. 

When this was finished, it was decided that a 
stone fireplace must be built on which the cook- 
ing could be done more conveniently, so they 
collected stones from the river and made a most 
elaborate one. Into this they raked a lot of hot 
embers and piled it up with wood, and having done 
so they went off to look for some material with 
which to make themselves bows and arrows; armed 
with such weapons, they thought, it would be 


ADVENTURES IN 


150 

fairly easy to shoot salmon. That would not only 
be great sport but it would give them food which 
would be a welcome change from trout. Both 
boys had belonged to an archery club and were 
fairly good shots, so they did not anticipate much 
difficulty in hitting the fish. 

After much searching they found some suit- 
able wood, and with their crooked knives soon 
had the bows made. What they should use for 
strings was the question, when Charlie remem- 
bered the tuna rod with its reel full of fine strong 
line. That would do splendidly. It did not take 
long to string the bows, which, though rather 
crude and lacking in spring, would do for a begin- 
ning. 

Arrows were the next things; these were made 
of willow, as the boys had no means of splitting 
either spruce or pine which they knew would be far 
better. The points of the arrows could be easily 
hardened in the fire, and as there were no feathers 
available it was hoped that at the short range the 
shooting would be done, the arrows would go 
straight enough. 

“I don’t think they use feathers for fish ar- 
rows,” said Charlie. “Don’t you remember 
those that Mr. Pratt brought back frorfi Africa? 
They were made of very light wood, a sort of cane, 
I think, with the weight near the point.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


151 

With this idea they trimmed the arrows, leaving 
the thickest wood five inches from the point. By 
the time the equipment was finished the sun had 
set and they returned to camp. 

On arriving at the lean-to they were about to 
place the unfinished arrows under shelter when a 
terrific explosion rent the air. It was as though 
a bomb had dropped; burning sticks and fragments 
of stones were hurled about and the air was filled 
with ashes, so that for a few minutes the boys 
could see nothing. Then the smell of something 
burning attracted Jack’s attention to where a 
lighted stick had set fire to the birch bark roof 
of the lean-to. Another minute and the whole 
structure would have been ablaze. Acting with- 
out a moment’s hesitation Jack tore the strip of 
bark away and threw it aside. 

“What in the world can have happened?” said 
Jack as they arrived, rubbing the ashes from his 
smarting eyes. 

All about the fireplace it certainly looked as 
though a shell had exploded; ashes and pieces of 
wood thrown about in confusion, and the fireplace 
itself was entirely wrecked. Large flakes of stone 
had even been thrown into the lean-to far beyond. 
Charlie looked about in absolute bewilderment, 
then suddenly he said: 

“I know. It’s the stones that burst as soon as 


ADVENTURES IN 


152 

they got hot. We ought to have thought of that 
and let them heat very slowly. You see, we got 
them out of the river and they were water-soaked, 
and when they got suddenly hot the steam formed 
inside and they just burst. Old John told me 
about this once and said that we had to be very 
careful what stones to use, and Mr. Pratt explained 
why they burst. I ought to have thought of this 
sooner. ,, 

“Jolly lucky it didn’t happen while we were 
cooking,” replied Jack. “We might easily have 
been killed. Well, we’ve had one more narrow 
escape. Looks as if we were born to be hanged 
as they don’t seem to be able to kill us in any 
other way. In the meantime, we ought to be 
learning something.” 

“Incidentally, I may add it was fortunate we 
were here, otherwise a big fire might have been 
started and we would have lost our few belong- 
ings,” Charlie remarked as he searched for any 
sparks that might yet cause trouble. 

A fresh fire was made up and soon the evening 
meal of trout was cooked and well seasoned with 
salt, for the salt stone had not been injured. The 
fish and some berries constituted dinner. 

“What worries me is that we have nothing to 
take the place of bread, and I feel sure this ever- 
lasting fish and berries, even with the addition 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


J53 

of meat if we can get it, will make us ill,” said 
Jack. 

“It is a question,” Charlie replied, “and I have 
been thinking about it a good deal. Of course, 
the fruit takes the place of vegetables, but I ex- 
pect some starchy food is necessary if we are to 
keep well for any length of time. What do you 
say to trying the spatterdock roots? You know, 
Andrew said they were eaten. Then there’s the 
caribou moss. We might have a go at that. It 
didn’t sound nice the way it was described to us, 
but it’s worth trying. Don’t you think so?” 

“Yes, and I’ll tell you something else. Don’t 
you remember that fellow at the museum telling 
us that some of the Indians made bread out of 
acorns, and that you could also make a drink with 
them which was rather like coffee?” 

“Yes, Jack, but where are the acorns? I don’t 
remember noticing any oak trees, do you?” 

“No, now I come to think of it, I don’t. Still, 
we might have a look to-morrow, and if we find 
some it would be great fun to see if we can do 
anything with the acorns.” 

“Right you are. We’ll have a good search. 
In the meantime, bed for me. Good-night.” 

“Good-night. Dream of the salmon you are 
going to shoot to-morrow, for that’s to be our first 
job.” 


ADVENTURES IN 


i54 

When morning came, it was raining and blowing 
hard, so the salmon shooting had to be postponed, 
and a walk through the woods in search of oak 
trees was substituted. Some more berries were 
needed, too. The boys carried their bows and 
arrows, carefully protected from the rain, under 
their oilskins. As they walked they examined 
the trees very carefully. Birches and conifers of 
several sorts were most abundant, and here and 
there were thick patches of poplars, whose restless 
leaves rattled incessantly in the breeze. Moun- 
tain ash with its brilliant orange berries was con- 
spicuous in some places, so also was the “wild 
pear” (as the Newfoundlander calls the Service 
berry). After walking some distance, they came 
to a ridge on which were a great many maples. 
These gave the boys an idea for the spring when, 
if they were still there, they could get some maple 
syrup, which would be a great treat. Among the 
maples they found two oaks, but the acorns were 
not fully developed, so they left them, noting care- 
fully where they were. 

While walking through the woods, the boys 
saw something moving among the underbrush. 
They both drew out their bows and got ready to 
shoot, then crept forward very quietly. After a 
few minutes a large hare appeared about twenty 
feet away, and each took aim and fired. The hare 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


i55 

seemed surprised as the arrows struck the ground 
close to where he was sitting, and he raised himself 
to get a better view of the strange creatures who 
were hurriedly trying to get fresh arrows into posi- 
tion. Once more they fired, with the same results, 
and still the animal watched them in an interested 
sort of way. Again two arrows flew through the 
air, and this time one went true, striking the hare 
directly in the chest and killing him instantly. 

Whose arrow it was they could not tell, both 
wanted to claim it, and they decided there and 
then that each one must have a distinguishing 
mark so that in future they would know their own 
arrows. 

They picked up the hare, which was a fine 
big one, and their five badly-aimed arrows, and 
turned back to camp, very much pleased with 
the results of the morning’s work. The meat 
would prove a most welcome change after the 
many meals of trout. 

Toward noon the rain ceased and the wind be- 
gan to die down. The afternoon promised to be 
fine, and it was decided to have a try for the sal- 
mon later when it became calmer. Until then the 
time was well occupied in collecting fuel, a task 
that always occasioned a keen wish for an axe. 

“If we only had one, we’d be quite happy,” 
said Jack. 


ADVENTURES IN 


156 

“Yes,” Charlie replied, “it would be fine; and 
think what a fine house we could build. But has it 
occurred to you that, once winter starts, the fallen 
trees and driftwood will be entirely buried in 
snow, and we shall not be able to find anything 
except what branches we can break off?” 

“No, I had not thought of that. By Jove! it 
means some work to gather enough to keep us 
warm for — let’s see, how many months? — from 
November or December until well into April, I 
suppose. About six months. Do you suppose 
we can ever do it? If only we had the axe it 
would give us such splendid exercise cutting wood 
during the cold weather. But there’s no use in cry- 
ing about it. We haven’t got one, so we shall have 
to go without and do the best we can, and be jolly 
economical with our supply.” 

“It would not be a bad idea,” Charlie replied, 
“to cut a lot of birch bark before it gets too hard 
to peel. We can stack it up and put heavy stones 
on the pile to keep the bark from curling. Each 
day we wait it will get more and more difficult to 
peel. So, whenever we come to a good smooth 
tree let’s get what we can from it, and so gradually 
make a big pile, for it’s bound to come in handy, 
if we are stuck here all winter. And what about 
the spatterdock roots? I thought we were going 
to get them. There are sure to be some in the 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


^57 

pools near where we get the bake apples. We 
really should have a try to-morrow.” 

All this time they had been bringing in wood. 
The wind had completely died, and Jack suggested 
that they had better see what they could do with 
the salmon. Both were very anxious to try their 
skill, and they started off in great excitement 
armed with bows and eight arrows apiece. They 
followed the river for some distance before finding 
a pool which would suit them, but at last they 
came to one which lay under a high overhanging 
rock. After some difficulty they climbed to the 
top of this rock and, looking down into the dark, 
oily pool, were delighted to see no less than seven 
salmon almost directly beneath them. The fish 
were nearly stationary and rather far below the 
surface. Occasionally one would rise slightly un- 
til it came quite close to the top. 

For a few minutes the boys watched the shadowy 
forms without making any movements that might 
frighten the fish. They got their weapons ready, 
and as soon as one came near enough to the sur- 
face they both shot. Apparently the two arrows 
were aimed true, and struck the water directly 
in line with the fish, but as the shots were fired at 
a slight angle, the water had deflected the arrows 
and both passed harmlessly over its back. 

“Next time, let’s fire a little below them,” said 


ADVENTURES IN 


158 

Charlie, and again the young sportsmen watched 
for an opportunity. 

For a very long time the fish remained far 
down in the gloomy depths of the pool, and the 
boys grew tired and discouraged. Fully half 
an hour they waited before a salmon rose slowly 
until its fin cut the surface of the slow-moving 
water. Then at a given signal two shots were 
fired almost simultaneously. What happened 
the boys could scarcely see. There was a terri- 
fic splash, and the water was churned into foam. 
The fish had been struck by both arrows, but the 
backbone had not been touched. Backward and 
forward from one end of the pool to the other 
the stricken fish thrashed, but the arrows were 
quickly doing their work and the fish was losing 
its power. 

“ Charlie, you rush down and get him if he 
comes within reach, while I stay up here and 
keep a look-out for him”; and Charlie quickly 
slid down the steep rock and rushed to the lower 
edge of the pool, so that he could catch the salmon 
if it drifted down stream. This, however, it 
did not seem inclined to do. It sank, instead, 
where the water was about four feet deep. 

“You keep your eye on him, Jack, while I get 
a stick to pull him out with,” Charlie called out. 
Then he cut a long sapling and returning to the 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


159 

pool, he tried in vain to get the fish, but it only- 
slid out into deeper water each time he touched it. 

“Cut a small, sharp-pointed forked stick and 
tie it to the pole so as to make a sort of gaff,” 
Jack cried. 

The idea was a good one, and Charlie immedi- 
ately acted on it with the result that after three or 
four ineffectual attempts he dragged the fish to 
shore, and a beauty it was, fully eighteen pounds. 
The boys’ delight knew no bounds. 

“Why, it’s almost as good as proper fishing,” 
said Jack. 

“You bet it is. I don’t think I was ever so 
excited as when we saw that we had actually 
struck the bea*st. I call it grand sport. We’ll 
have to smoke this chap so as to keep it for a 
rainy day. It’s getting late now, so we had 
better get along back.” 

After cleaning their catch, they trudged to 
camp, each taking his turn in carrying the 
heavy fish. As it was too late to make a smoke- 
house that night, they rubbed a little salt into 
the fish and covered it carefully in moss. Then 
having had some food they both turned in, 
thoroughly happy and satisfied with the results 
of the day’s sport: a hare and a salmon, that meant 
enough food for at least two or three days. Evi- 
dently there was no immediate fear of starvation. 


i6o 


ADVENTURES IN 


In the morning, they were up before sunrise and 
off to the pool where several fine fish were waiting 
for them. As the boys peeped over the edge of 
the rock, the fish went down deep and remained 
there for some time, but when the sun struck the 
water, they all rose slowly, until there were four 
close to the surface. Each boy selected one and 
both fired together. 

Jack missed his, but Charlie’s arrow went true 
and struck the fish fairly in the back, evidently hit- 
ting the spine, for the fish scarcely wriggled but 
slowly drifted down with the current, sinking as it 
went. Not wishing to disturb the other salmon, 
Charlie quietly got down from the rock and went to 
the extreme lower end of the pool and waited there 
for the fish to reach him. It seemed a long wait, 
and just as it came to the shallow water where he 
could get hold of it, he heard the whizz of an arrow, 
followed immediately by a splashing of water. 

“I’ve got him!” shouted Jack; but he had not. 

The arrow had evidently struck the fish, and 
with the first struggle it had broken loose and the 
fish escaped, while the arrow drifted down to where 
Charlie stood holding his catch. He picked up the 
floating arrow and found that the point had 
broken off short. 

“Hard luck, old chap,” he cried to Jack; “but 
nevermind. Better luck next time.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 161 

Then after laying his fish, which weighed about 
ten pounds, on the bank, he returned to the rock. 
The pool had been badly disturbed, and it was 
more than an hour before another chance offered. 
This time only one fish came within range, so 
they both fired together. An arrow hit, but did 
not immediately kill the fish, which dived and 
stayed down for some time. Then gradually it 
rose and swam about as though it had great 
difficulty in keeping down, so both boys seized 
the first opportunity and fired again. This time 
the salmon was instantly killed, both arrows hav- 
ing gone through it. The young hunters were 
more than delighted with their success and quickly 
secured their quarry, which proved to be about the 
same size as the one they had killed the previous 
day. There seemed very little chance of further 
sport in that pool for a long time to come, so the 
boys decided to go back to camp with what they 
had and make a proper smoke-house. This took 
them till noon, when they had the pleasure of 
hanging up two and a half fish in a dense smoke, 
which would preserve the flesh against the time 
when it might be needed; the other half fish was 
cooked and eaten with the greatest possible relish. 

“This afternoon I vote we get some more berries 
and a couple of spatterdock roots to try, and this 
evening if there is time we’ll have another try at 


ADVENTURES IN 


162 

the salmon. We might also make a few more 
arrows if we have time,” Charlie said. 

“And a proper gaff,” Jack added. 

“Why, wouldn’t a snare be better?” asked 
Charlie, “if we only had some wire.” 

“But we haven’t any, except that heavy wire 
there on the tuna line, and that would be too stiff, 
I expect.” 

“What about the batteries from the launch?” 
Charlie said, with sudden inspiration. “The wire 
on the coils would do even if it is rather thin. 
We could twist two or three pieces together; and 
speaking of snares, why couldn’t we make some 
rabbit snares at the same time? We could catch 
plenty, I am sure, especially as the weather gets 
colder.” 

The suggestion was a brilliant one, and they 
decided to go the following day to “Wreck Point,” 
as they called the place where they had landed. 
They then went to the barrens, and as soon as 
sufficient berries had been picked they tried for 
the spatterdock roots; but getting them was no 
easy matter. The bog pools were so soft that 
they did not dare get into them. Finally, after 
many attempts they devised a scheme which 
worked well. A long pole with a forked end was 
secured. The points of the forks were left about 
six inches long, and to these they lashed short, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 163' 

strong, V-shaped pieces with the points toward the 
handle, like two barbs. With this contrivance 
they grappled the sunken roots and with little 
difficulty brought them ashore. Two roots were 
enough for a trial, and these with the berries were 
carried back to camp. 

As it was still fairly early, the boys could not 
resist having another try for salmon, but though 
they waited on the rock till almost dark, they saw 
only one fish, a very large one, which kept deep 
down in the pool. This was rather discouraging, 
and they wondered if their salmon hunting in this 
pool was at an end. If so they must find either 
another pool or a different method of catching the 
fish. 

When they returned to camp it was practically 
dark, and they felt too tired to try cooking the 
roots, so they made a meal of berries and a piece 
of broiled salmon. 

“ To-morrow we’ll try the hare and the roots. 
It would be rather fun to bake the hare in clay as 
the Indians do, but I haven’t noticed any clay 
about here, have you, Jack?” 

“Not a bit, but then I haven’t been looking for it. 
I expect we’ll find some in the river. Now I come 
to think of it, the bottom of that pool where we 
caught the salmon was very sticky. Perhaps that’s 
clay; if so, there must be some more about.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


164 

“ We should get some, for I am sure the hare will 
be jolly dry if we roast him, as we have no grease 
of any kind.” 

“All right, we’ll have a look to-morrow, 
night.” 


Good- 


CHAPTER IX 


THEY FIND THE TUNA, DO EXPERIMENTAL COOKING, 
FIND EDIBLE ROOTS— GET A DUCKING— SHOOT 
A LARGE SALMON— TAKE A TRIP INLAND- 
SHOOT A STAG AND SOME PTARMIGAN 

T HIS is the seventh day since we arrived 
wherever we are,” said Charlie as he 
awoke and looked at the tally stick. 
“ Seven days and no one has come near enough 
to see our smoke signal.” 

“Oh, well, never mind,” Jack replied, “what’s 
the good of worrying? We are very comfortable 
and we are both enjoying it thoroughly. We 
can’t do more than keep our signal going and make 
preparations for a continued stay in our unknown 
land. You may be sure that we’ll get away some 
day. By the way, it has just struck me that we 
have nothing for breakfast except some berries; 
not a piece of fish, as we must not touch the 
smoked salmon. Don’t you think we had better 
try to catch a few trout ? ” 

“Not a bad idea, and the tide is about right. 
Come along.” 

The mouth of the river was only a little more 

165 


1 66 


ADVENTURES IN 


than a quarter of a mile from the camp, so they 
were soon at their regular place. The fish rose 
well and a dozen nice ones were caught in less than 
half an hour. While they were cleaning them, 
Jack happened to look along the coast. 

“ What’s that?’’ he cried, pointing to a dark 
object lying on the shore about three hundred 
yards away. 

“Hanged if I know. It looks like a dead body, 
Jack. Let’s go to it and see.” 

Leaving the catch of fish in a place of safety, 
they ran along the beach; as they drew near the 
object looked more like a large seal. 

“Why, it’s a tuna I do believe,” Charlie said. 
And so it was. A large dead tuna. 

“Look here, quick, Charlie, it’s the one Dad 
caught as sure as you’re alive. There’s the hook 
still in its mouth and the trace with a piece of the 
line.” 

“Well, did you ever hear of such an extraordi- 
nary thing in all your life. To think that it should 
have washed ashore, at our very feet, you might 
say. It doesn’t seem possible. But what do 
you suppose killed it? I don’t see any mark of 
the lance. Wait a minute, though, what’s this? — 
a bullet mark, I believe. Certainly looks like one. 
Yes, it is. It went in here, and there’s the larger 
hole where it came out.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


167 


a 



1 68 


ADVENTURES IN 


“ You’re right, that’s just what it is. You re- 
member when we discussed the problem of land- 
ing the fish if it was very large: Dad said they 
might use the lance, or harpoon as he called it, 
if the weather was calm, but if there was much 
sea on, he thought it would be safest to shoot and 
make sure that the beast was dead before attempt- 
ing to do anything more. The water was cer- 
tainly not particularly calm when this chap was 
caught, so I expect they tried to shoot it. Evi- 
dently they missed the head and spine and the fish 
must have put up a terrific fight and broken loose 
before they could get another shot in. It must 
have been jolly ticklish work in that small boat!” 

“I believe you are right, Jack. But the shot 
eventually proved fatal. Then I suppose the 
fish went down for a few days and has drifted here 
since it came to the surface. It’s about the strang- 
est thing I’ve ever heard of. I wonder if we can 
make any use of it. I expect the meat is pretty 
far gone, but the skin might be useful. Let’s 
skin it. The tide is coming up, so we had better 
hustle up.” 

The knives were soon at work and the skin taken 
off in long strips until one side was bare. That 
was all they could do as the creature, which 
weighed about a thousand pounds, was too heavy 
for the two boys to turn over„ 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 169 

“ Let’s get along back with what we have/’ said 
Charlie. “The chances are it will not drift far 
and we can come down next tide and get some 
more. Perhaps it will be good enough to turn over 
for us, or I’ll tell you what we can do, anchor 
it to these rocks with a strip of its own skin, and 
stick a few stones into the side we have skinned, 
so that the extra weight will make the body turn 
over the way we want it.” 

“That’s a jolly good idea of yours, Charlie, and 
it won’t take a minute.” 4 

In a very short time the task was completed and 
the boys, laden down with the slippery skin, re- 
turned J:o camp, picking up the trout as they 
passed. 'The long wait had given them very keen 
appetites so that the trout tasted even better than 
usual. % Immediately after breakfast the fires 
were attended to and they started off for “Wreck 
Point.” On their way they had a splendid op- 
portunity to get two hares, but unfortunately they 
had been foolish enough to forget the bows and 
arrows. The truth was that they were so excited 
over the finding of the tuna that they could think 
of nothing else. It brought back to them with 
great keenness the thought of how much worry 
their absence must be causing. Jack, with his 
usual rather happy-go-lucky nature, was im- 
pressed chiefly with the strangeness of the coinci- 


170 


ADVENTURES IN 


dence that had brought to them the tuna which 
his father had killed and which incidentally had 
been the cause of their present predicament; while 
Charlie was affected more particularly by the 
thought of what the Sylvesters must have suf- 
fered through their sudden and unexplained dis- 
appearance. With his marked affection for his 
foster parents and his devotion to Evelyn he 
hated to think of the misery of which they were 
the innocent cause. In his mind he pictured 
the meeting when Mr. Sylvester had returned to 
his wife alone, and the picture was terribly painful — 
so painful that he found it hard to speak freely 
of it even to Jack. Never before had he realized 
how fond he was of the Sylvesters and now the 
chances were that he and Jack had been given up 
for dead. The thought depressed the two for some 
time; but youth, healthy and well fed, does not 
give way to the blues, and by the time they reached 
the Point their spirits were up again. 

The batteries from the launch were soon discov- 
ered and the wire taken off. Some nails were also 
drawn from the wreckage as they might prove of 
great use. Then the boys returned to camp. As 
soon as they had made a snare and attached it to a 
suitable long, light pole, they went to the salmon 
pool on the chance of getting some more fish. On 
leaning over the edge of the projecting rock they 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 



were delighted to see three fish lying quite near 
the surface. Two shots were fired with great 
care and Jack got his with a clean shot. After a 
very short struggle, the fish turned over and sank 
as it drifted slowly down stream. 

The wire snare proved a great success, and the 
salmon was quickly caught and pulled ashore. 
That ended the salmon shooting for the time, as 
the pool had been disturbed. Before returning to 
camp the boys examined the river bottom and 
found that, in places, there was some fine clay, so 
they collected enough to make a proper covering 
for the hare and took it with them. The salmon 
was added to those already in the smoke-house 
and then they debated on what was the proper 
method of baking the hare. As Jack' was about 
to skin the animal, Charlie said, “I’m sure the 
skin should be left on, for I remember reading 
somewhere that when the clay is opened the skin 
comes off with the clay and the meat is clear of it 
all.” 

“ All right, we'll try it your way and if it's spoilt 
you've got to go out and stay away till you get 
another hare.'' 

The clay was rolled out into a sheet about an 
inch and a half thick and the hare, after having 
been cleaned and salted, was put on this and rolled 
up in a compact mass. Then a hole was made in 


172 


ADVENTURES IN 


the bed of glowing embers and the hare carefully 
deposited and covered up with hot embers. 

“Now, what about the roots. How shall we 
cook them? Shall we boil one and bake the 
other ?” Jack asked. 

“Yes, that sounds sensible. We can boil one 
in the bailing tin that we brought from the wreck, 
and roast the other between some stones, make a 
sort of small oven/’ 

This was accordingly done and the boys watched 
eagerly, wondering what would be the results of 
their experimental cooking. If the roots proved a 
success, it would mean a great help in the food 
question, as they could be gathered in quantity and 
stored either under water or in the ground so that 
they would last all winter. How long to cook 
either the hare or the roots was entirely a matter 
of guess. It is true the roots could be tried occa- 
sionally, but the hare must be done before the clay 
was opened. After about an hour and a half or 
two hours, the roots seemed cooked and were 
found to be quite eatable though somewhat flavour- 
less. The boiled one was rather glutinous and not 
so good as the baked root. 

“Once we get used to them they do very well,” 
said Jack. 

“Especially in a stew,” Charlie added, “for 
really they are not at all bad. Much better than 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


i73 

I expected from what old Andrew told us. Per- 
haps we’ll find the caribou moss will also be good 
enough to eat. We must try some soon. Now 
what do you say to trying the hare? I’m awfully 
hungry, aren’t you?” 

“ Hungry, my dear chap, I’m always hungry in 
this place. I could eat six meals a day without 
a murmur. Come on, we’ll attack the fatted calf.” 

The ashes were brushed aside and the cracked 
clay casing was very carefully removed from its 
bed of embers. As they got it clear of the fire 
the clay fell apart, and disclosed the hare cooked to 
a turn and smelling so delicious that the boys lost 
no time in sampling it. 

“Well, I say, Charlie old boy, if this isn’t the 
best that ever happened, and these roots are just 
the thing with it. It’s a dinner fit for a king, isn’t 
it?” 

“Oh, shut up, don’t waste your time talking. 
Just eat and thank our good luck that we have 
such a meal. We must make a raid on the hares. 
I’ll bet there won’t be many left in this district if 
we stay here long. Gosh, but this is good. Here, 
pass me another chunk of that roast root before 
you gobble it all up.” 

During the afternoon they collected some more 
of the spatterdock roots and picked a lot of bake 
apples and raspberries. They also got another 


ADVENTURES IN 


i74 

salmon, and then as the tide was low again they 
went down the beach to see the tuna. It was 
still there and had turned over so that now the 
unskinned side was uppermost. The boys were 
delighted to find that their scheme for turning 
the huge fish had succeeded and they lost no time 
in removing the remainder of the skin. This 
was taken ashore and dried in strips, stretched 
flat, by hanging it to branches and fastening 
heavy stones to the ends. By the time this had 
been done the gloom of twilight had settled on 
the land and the boys were tired enough with the 
long day’s work to enjoy thoroughly their evening 
meal and still more their simple but comfortable 
sweet-scented beds. 

The following day was devoted to salmon shoot- 
ing and getting firewood in case a spell of bad 
weather set in. The results were highly satis- 
factory; no less than four fish were shot, one of 
them weighing about twenty pounds. The boys 
realized that the run of fish must be nearly ended 
and that, once they passed this part of the river, 
they would probably not be able to get any more 
unless they had the good luck to find the spawn- 
ing beds, so every effort must be devoted to get- 
ting as many as possible while they had the 
chance. For three days more their time was 
therefore devoted to this to the exclusion of almost 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


i7S 

everything else. They were fortunate enough to 
find another fairly good pool where the salmon 
lay within reach of their arrows. 

By hard work they managed to get altogether 
eleven more fish and had a very amusing expe- 
rience with the last one. Jack saw a very large 
salmon lying close under the “Watch Rock,” as 
they called the large overhanging rock in the first 
pool. He became very much excited and, while 
trying to take aim, leaned over a little too far and 
just as he fired the arrow he lost his balance and 
fell splash into the deep pool almost on top of the 
big fish he had shot. 

Charlie laughed so much he could scarcely offer 
any help, but as Jack came floundering out of the 
pool, soaked to the skin, he suddenly realized that 
the fish was drifting down stream splashing about 
in a frantic manner. It was a prize worth get- 
ting at any cost so he rushed into the pool at the 
lower end with the snare, but the stones were slip- 
pery and his feet slid from under him and he sat 
down in about two and a half feet of water with 
a resounding thud. Nothing could possibly have 
suited Jack better. It was his turn to laugh now 
and he did so while Charlie floundered about try- 
ing to get a foothold. In the meantime, the fish 
had made its way out of the pool and was fast fol- 
lowing the stream, heading for the sea. 


1 76 ADVENTURES IN 

The two boys raced after it. Twice they got 
in front of it, but failed to get a hold, but at last 
they succeeded in forcing it into a shallow back- 
water and in a few minutes had it safely ashore. 
The weight they judged was about twenty-eight 
pounds. As the sun was within half an hour of 
setting, they had to hurry back to camp with their 
fish and build a large fire in order to get their 
clothes dry. It was not far from midnight before 
they were able to turn in, both resolving that, 
under the existing conditions, water sports were 
not at all in order. 

Next day saw a complete change in the weather. 
The wind blew in fitful gusts, rain came down in 
torrents. All day it continued and the boys were 
scarcely able to leave the shelter of the camp. For 
two more days it continued with little intermission. 
It was dreary work sitting in the small lean-to 
for so many hours, but they amused themselves 
with various tasks. A number of wire snares for 
hares were made. Then they needed new arrows, 
some of them were made with plain burnt points 
and four for special occasions had nails for points; 
these were first sharpened on a stone and then let 
into a notch and bound with very thin pieces of 
tuna skin. A few feathers had been picked up at 
various times and were now used to feather the 
best of the arrows. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 177 

New bow-strings were made of tuna* skin, as 
those made from the line were not very satisfac- 
tory, they frayed too quickly. The tuna skin 
came in handy for quivers, too. In order to make 
these they cut a wooden form, then after thoroughly 
soaking the skin, laid it on the form and sewed the 
edges together with thin strips of the same skin. 
When this dried it shrank so much that they had 
to wet it once more in order to get the form out. 
However, in the end the results were quite satisfac- 
tory and they both felt very proud of their new 
equipment. As Jack said: 

“All we want now are moccasins and eagle 
feathers and we shall be full-fledged Indians.” 

On the evening of the third day of rain, while 
they were sitting watching the fire, Charlie said: 

“As soon as this rotten weather stops, what do 
you say to taking a good long trip inland to see 
what there is up there. We won’t be able to 
shoot salmon for some time after this rain, so it 
would be a good chance. We can take with us a 
piece of smoked salmon and perhaps a few of our 
biscuits. We haven’t touched the two tins yet 
and there’s quite a little left in the opened one.” 

“It seems a very good idea and we might per- 
haps see something that will help us to know where 
we are, or how to get away.” 

“I don’t think there’s much doubt, Jack, as 


i 7 8 ADVENTURES IN 

to where we are. Somewhere in the north of 
Newfoundland I’d be willing to bet. But how 
to get out of it, that’s quite another pair of boots. 
Travelling in this country is no child’s play, and 
if we did get lost it might go hard with us. Of 
course if we see something that looks like human 
habitation we’ll be all right, but it doesn’t seem to 
me as though there was a human being any- 
where near us. Anyhow it will be interesting 
to make, say, a two- or a three-day trip up 
country.” 

“We’ll have to be awful careful not to lose our 
way back to this camp,” said Jack. 

“Rather! if we did anything so terrible we 
should lose all our wordly goods except what we 
are carrying on our handsome persons. You 
know, of course, how many vanloads of valuables 
we have in our palace,” laughed Charlie. 

“It’s all very well to laugh, but the little we 
have is jolly well worth keeping. Look at all 
that fine smoked fish. We’ll bless that yet, I 
expect. Shall we start to-morrow ? ” 

“Yes, if it’s reasonably fine, we might as 
well,” Charlie replied. 

“I wonder what time it is; bedtime, I should 
say.” 

When morning came the storm had passed. 
The sky was gathering together all the smoky 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


179 

little clouds that had been part of the bad weather 
and was taking them all over to the rising sun to 
be melted. The wind was coming from the north- 
west, cool and crisp, with a very decided tinge of 
autumn in it. A perfect morning to start on a 
long tramp and the boys got ready immediately 
after breakfast. Armed with bows and arrows, 
fire-lighting apparatus, and three days’ supply of 
food in case they did not shoot anything, they 
left the camp, and followed the course of the river. 

For several miles this took them through woods 
of varying density, the ground for the greater 
part being covered with rocks hidden beneath 
the richest of green and gray mosses. On the 
trees, too, were mosses of many kinds, some cling- 
ing to the bark as though they were part of it, 
and others like an old man’s beard, hanging in 
festoons of cold gray. There was little sign of 
animal life in these woods, a few juncos and 
chickadees and several species of sparrows. 
Occasionally a woodpecker tapped at the trees 
to be sure he would not be passed unnoticed. 
Once in a while a Canada jay, soft and fluffy, 
would fly close to the boys and stare at them with 
its large dark eyes and quizzical expression. 
There were no squirrels and, as Charlie said, that 
made it pretty certain they were in Newfound- 
land, for anywhere on the mainland the chattering 


180 ADVENTURES IN 

of the noisy red squirrels would have been almost 
incessant. 

By keeping close to the river, the boys found 
the walking rough, but as they did not know when 
it might make a sharp bend, it was their safest 
course. Several small rapids and a low water- 
fall they had noticed, but the water was fairly 
easy running as the fall to the sea was evidently 
gradual. They crossed one fair-sized stream 
which emptied into the river less than four miles 
from camp — this was the only tributary they 
found. 

At the end of about five miles the country 
became more open, large tracts of barrens came 
almost to the water’s edge to be separated only 
by a narrow fringe of trees. In places the river 
passed through level ground, so that it spread out 
into ponds of considerable size and the flow of 
the current could be seen. While crossing these 
open barrens the boys were delighted to see several 
caribou feeding. 

“How about trying to stalk them?” said Jack, 
“we might manage to kill one with our arrows and 
it would be great sport.” 

“Right you are, but we will have to get very 
close to have any chance of getting one. These 
metal-pointed arrows would go in, I expect. 
It’s worth trying, anyhow, and a supply of fresh 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP - 181 

meat would be most welcome. Which shall we 
try for? There’s a doe and a fawn over there, 
but the ground is so open that I doubt if we 
could get near enough.” 

“The fawn would certainly be the best eating, 
but as there is no cover I think we had better go 
for that young stag that you see feeding among the 
trees. We can get well down wind and stalk him 
if we are careful, Charlie.” 

So they decided on the stag and worked round 
till the wind was right and then by keeping well 
among the low trees, managed to approach without 
difficulty to within about seventy yards. The stag 
was in an open space, so they could not get any 
nearer for the present, and it seemed as though he 
would never go into cover. At last, however, after 
nearly an hour of patient waiting, they saw him 
move into a fairly thick place and the boys fol- 
lowed as carefully as possible. Nearer and nearer 
they crept, their primitive weapons ready and 
their hearts thumping violently/. The stag was 
entirely unsuspicious and was feeding here and 
there on the moss with which the ground was so 
thickly covered. Several times they were within 
ten or fifteen yards, but there was always some- 
thing between them and their quarry. A clear 
shot was absolutely necessary, for the smallest 
twig would throw the arrow off its course. At last 


182 


ADVENTURES IN 


the moment came. There was an opening be- 
tween the trees and into this, not more than nine 
yards away, the stag walked, feeding as he went. 
With trembling hands both boys raised their bows 
and took careful aim. 

“ Ready, ” whispered Jack. “Fire!” And the 
two nail-pointed arrows flew. Both struck and 
entered and the stag gave a frightened jump, then 
stood still a moment with his head held high and 
he caught sight of the boys who were quickly re- 
loading, but before they could fire he rushed off, 
crashing through the trees, the boys following as 
fast as they could. After going perhaps a hundred 
yards they had the great satisfaction of finding 
the animal lying dead. The shots had been well- 
aimed, one having gone into the heart. Never 
had the boys known such intense delight. This 
was real sport, altogether different from shooting 
with long-range rifles, when the animal has no 
chance. Not only was their sporting instinct 
satisfied, but their successful shots had provided 
them with a large supply of meat as well as the 
skin which would be of great value. 

“It’s evidently a last-year stag,” Charlie said, 
after they had mutually congratulated each other. 
“See his funny little velvet-covered horns. Now 
what shall we do? It seems to me the best thing 
would be to get the meat back to camp as soon as 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 183 

possible and start smoking it, otherwise it will not 
keep I’m afraid. ” 

“You’re quite right,” Jack replied. “As soon as 
we have finished we can make another start for an 
inland trip. Wouldn’t Dad be surprised if he 
could see what we have done?” 

“You bet he would. Now the question is: Shall 
we skin the animal or just cut him in halves, skin 
and all?” 

“Oh, skin him first, so that we shall not injure it 
by cutting. The whole skin will make a good 
ground sheet for our bed.” 

It took longer than they expected to get the 
skin off, but finally it was done and then after 
cleaning the carcass they divided it in two. But 
this made each load rather more than they could 
carry, even without the skin, so the head and neck 
and the shanks were cut off; this lightened the 
loads considerably, and by changing about fre- 
quently, as the hindquarters were far the heavier, 
they managed to carry all the important part of 
their prize. 

The journey back to camp seemed very long, and 
when they finally arrived they were thoroughly 
tired. A piece of nicely broiled steak soon re- 
stored them and before night they had most 
of the meat cut into strips and hung in the 
smoke-house. A little was kept to be used fresh, 


1 84 ADVENTURES IN 

for as Jack observed, they deserved that for a 
treat. 

The following morning they Started inland 
tempted by the fineness of the weather, stopping 
on their way to examine the caribou skin. It was 
decided that this should be properly stretched so 
that it would dry flat. To do this they laced the 
sides to a couple of poles and then placed two more 
diagonally across from the corners, so the skin was 
stretched as tight as a drum. It was then hung 
high enough up on a tree to be safe from foxes or 
other prowlers. 

As it was nearly noon by the time they had 
completed the work they had lunch before pro- 
ceeding on their way. Jack remembered having 
been told that caribou marrow was extremely good 
eating, so he suggested roasting the shanks which 
had been cut off* the previous day. A fire was 
made and the bones roasted and the hot marrow 
found to be delicious. This and some heated-over 
steak completed the meal after which they re- 
sumed their way inland. 

In a general way they followed the river, leav- 
ing it now and then to examine some particular 
piece of country. A few caribou were seen and 
several hares, one of which they shot. Beyond 
that they saw very little game. Toward evening 
they reached a part of the river where the bottom 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 185 

was of pure white sand, while below it was mostly 
mud and stones. At the time the boys did not 
pay much attention to this change, for they little 
realized what it would mean to them later. Camp 
was made near this sandy reach, a simple camp 
composed of a bark lean-to and a roaring fire, for 
the night promised to be cold. Half the hare was 
roasted for supper and the rest kept for breakfast. 

Very early in the morning they were up, and after 
a wash in the sparkling water, followed by break- 
fast, they started. The river was very narrow, 
little more indeed than a stream, so they left it 
and headed up to the hills from where they were 
looking forward anxiously to an extended view of 
the country. Om the lower hills, the boys were 
delighted to find enormous quantities of blueber- 
ries, far more than they had found in any other 
place. Evidently it had not been many years 
since the ground had been burnt over. This fact 
heartened the boys, for it showed that the region 
was probably not unvisited by man. Another 
thing that delighted them was the number of 
ptarmigan; covey after covey ran in front of them, 
some quite young birds, others fully grown, and all 
so tame that they had no difficulty in shooting 
seven. The shooting was expensive work, however, 
for, owing to the stony nature of the ground, they 
broke no less than six arrows. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


1 86 

“ Boomerangs would be the thing for them,” 
Charlie suggested. “I wonder if we couldn’t 
make one. Those that Mr. Pratt had looked easy 
enough to make. Let’s try it some day. A piece 
of good, heavy juniper would do, I’m sure.” 

“Yes, but wouldn’t it be jolly hard to cut w T ith 
only these knives, and I never could manage to 
throw one so that it would either hit anything or 
come back. You used to be quite a dab at it, 
though, weren’t you ? ” 

“I could make them come back without any 
trouble,” Charlie replied, “but I never hit any- 
thing except my own head, and Mr. Pratt when he 
stood near me. With practice, however, I expect 
we could hit these idiotic birds.” 


CHAPTER X 


THEY FIND CARIBOU ROADS— A NATURAL ICE HOUSE— 
AN INDIAN FLINT PILE— RETURN TO RIVER CAMP- 
MAKE PLANS FOR THE WINTER— DISCOVER BEAVER 
PONDS AND DAMS AND DECIDE TO MAKE USE OF THE 
BEAVER’S WOOD-CUTTING— SELECT SITE FOR THEIR 
WINTER HUT, AND COLLECT MATERIAL FOR BUILDING 

T OWARD mid-day the young explorers 
reached the summit of the hills, from which 
they could see the country for many miles 
around. Looking toward their camp they observed 
a series of small ponds not far from the river, and 
on their side. Charlie noticed it and said: 

“You remember the rough little stream we passed, 
about an hour and a half after leaving camp yester- 
day, that must evidently come from those pools. 
We’ll have to investigate them and see what’s there.” 

“Wouldn’t it be fine if we find beaver? Those 
ponds certainly look as though they were sepa- 
rated by dams, don’t they?” 

“That’s just what I was thinking of, Jack, and 
beaver might be very useful to us.” 

Looking farther northward, they noticed a 
number of trails, which led toward the hills back of 
where they were standing. 

187 


1 88 


ADVENTURES IN 


“What do you suppose they are, Charlie ?” 
Jack asked. ^ 

“I don’t know, but they look like narrow roads; 
let’s cut in a bit and see what they are.” 

“Wouldn’t it be funny if we found a road up 
here in this wild place?” Jack said, as they started. 

“Not much chance of that, considering there 
isn’t a sign of a human habitation as far as we can 
see.” 

Half a mile from the first peak they came to the 
“roads” — for roads or paths they certainly were — 
some only three feet wide and others as much as 
ten feet. They w T ere cut deep into the ground, 
and even the rocks w'ere worn down several inches 
as though by much traffic. 

“Do you know what they are, Charlie?” Jack 
asked. 

“No, I cannot imagine.” 

“They’re caribou leads, I’ll bet anything. The 
roads that Steve told us about, which are used by 
the caribou during their migrations.” 

“By Jove! you’re right; that’s what they must 
be. What a sight it must be to see these great 
herds coming along in the late autumn. That 
will be our chance to get meat. We could hide 
here quite close to the roads and use our arrows 
without any trouble and, as it will be cold then, 
the meat can be kept. We may get enough to last 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 189 

all the winter if we have luck. We must make 
some stronger bows and plenty of arrows. Those 
nails we got from the launch will come in handy 
for points. I only wish we had more of them.” 

The boys, very cheerful at the prospect, fol- 
lowed the roads along for some distance to get an 
idea of where they could best find a place to watch 
when the migration began. 

As they were going down a narrow gully they 
noticed a small stream of icy cold water and de- 
cided to stay there and have lunch. A small fire 
was made after some trouble, for they were not 
yet expert with the primitive stick-rubbing device, 
and a couple of ptarmigan were plucked and roasted. 

“Those wing feathers will be fine for our arrows, 
let’s keep them,” said Charlie, as he picked the 
last morsel of juicy meat from the bird. 

On drinking the water from the tiny stream, 
they were struck by its extraordinary coldness and 
decided to find its source. They discovered that it 
flowed from a hole in the shady side of the gully. 
The hole was really a sort of cave and fully eight 
feet high; inside it was intensely cold. This sur- 
prised them at first, but on going farther in they 
found that it was almost solid ice, evidently 
packed there by centuries of bitter winters. 

“Let’s get out of this before we become refrig- 
erated meat,” Jack said, shivering. 


ADVENTURES IN 


190 

“That's an idea," Charlie replied as they got 
out into the warmer air. “Why can't we store 
our meat here, where it will keep perfectly? We 
can use this as a sort of reserve; pity it's so far 
from the camp. But I’ll tell you what we can 
do. If we kill any caribou near here, we can store 
the meat in this ice box until the cold weather 
starts, and then bring it down when the migra- 
tion has finished, if it isn’t too mild.’’ 

It seemed best to follow the gully down to the 
stream so that they might find the easiest way. 
It would shorten the road and save going up that 
rough hill. On their way they got five more 
ptarmigan. But this time they used stones 
instead of arrows. The absurd tameness of the 
birds made it quite an easy matter, and it saved 
the arrows. 

Shortly before reaching the stream they came to 
a curious mound not far from what seemed the 
main caribou road. The mound did not appear 
to be a natural formation, it was too even and quite 
unlike anything in the vicinity. On close ex- 
amination it was found to be a heap of all shapes 
and sizes of flint fragments, many of which were 
like irregularly shaped arrow heads. 

“I say, here is a stroke of luck, this is evidently 
an old Indian flint pile," said Charlie. “And we 
shall be able to find lots of arrow heads which, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 191 

though not perfect enough for the old masters of 
archery, will be quite good enough for us.” 

“You bet; why, just look at this one,” Jack an- 
swered as he held out a very fair piece which he 
had picked up. “That’s certainly good enough 
for me.” 

“We’ll camp just below, near that little birch 
wood, and spend a few hours here, Jack.” ^ 

The weather looked threatening so they made 
their lean-to and bed and got enough firewood for 
the night, in case it should rain, and then returned 
to the place where, perhaps hundreds of years ago, 
the Beothuc Indian had made his arrow heads. 

It was strange that these boys, products of the 
age of highly developed weapons and advanced civ- 
ilization, should be depending on the skill of ancient 
savages for an improvement in the means for kill- 
ing their food. 

Before night they had collected several dozen 
more or less perfect arrow heads and so they had 
enough to get along with, but after talking things 
over during supper, they came to the conclusion 
that they had better get a few more, so that, if 
bad weather confined them to camp, they could 
occupy themselves with arrow making; then, when 
the migration of caribou began, their supply 
would be sufficient, and they would not have to 
worry if their arrows were lost or broken. 


192 


ADVENTURES IN 


The following morning, therefore, as soon as 
they had finished breakfast, they returned to the 
flint pile, and collected enough to satisfy their 
needs. When this was done they left for the 
home camp, picking up the partly dried caribou 
hide on the way. 

It was almost like getting home again, returning 
to clmp; River Camp they had christened it. 

They were tired after the trip inland, but be- 
fore resting, many things had to be done. The 
smoke-house fire needed material, the beacon 
and camp fires had gone out altogether and had 
to be rebuilt from embers taken from the smoke- 
house, which by good luck had not quite died out. 
Unfortunately rain began to fall before the various 
tasks were finished, but at last they were able to 
get under shelter of the cook house, which was 
simply a roof of bark to keep them dry while 
working near the fire. 

Their supper consisted of roast roots and ptar- 
migan with a few blueberries to finish up with; 
and a rattling good meal it made. 

While sitting in the lean-to, watching the fire, 
plans were made for the next day; if the weather 
should be fine they decided to pay a visit to the 
series of pools they had seen from the hills, other- 
wise arrow making would pass the time. 

The boys were very anxious to try the flint heads 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


193 

and while discussing how they should be fastened 
on, Charlie exclaimed: 

“What a pair of idiots we have been, we never 
even thought of getting any sinews from the 
caribou and they would have been just the thing. 
How was it neither of us thought of this at the 
time?” 

“To tell the truth, Charlie, I think we were too 
excited to think about anything but the obvious 
necessity of saving the meat and hide. Remem- 
ber that it was the first time either of us had killed 
big game, so there was some excuse for us.” 

“I suppose so, but nevertheless it’s a pity we 
were such fools. The next caribou we get must 
make up for it, and the sooner we get one the bet- 
ter; not only can we use the sinews but the intes- 
tines I believe will do as well, if not better. Do 
you suppose there would be any good going to 
where we shot the stag? It’s worth a try and it 
will mean only a very little extra distance to walk 
when we go to the ponds.” 

“Very good,” Jack replied, “we’ll do it; and 
there is another thing we should think about be- 
fore long, and that is getting a good supply of blue- 
berries, they are ripening now, and we ought to 
pick them while they are nice and firm as I’m sure 
they will have a better chance of keeping under 
water. We might also try drying some. I don’t 


ADVENTURES IN 


194 

know whether they will keep like currants, if they 
did it would be a great help, for to tell the truth 
the nearly all-meat diet that we are threatened 
with for the long winter will, to say the least of it, 
be very monotonous.” 

“Don’t forget the spatterdock roots, we’ll 
need a lot of them.” 

“I have been thinking of them and wondering 
whether they could be dried and parched brown 
very slowly before the fire, so that we could pound 
them up and make a sort of porridge or even 
bread. I vote we try it.” 

“Now, we have got to make careful plans, as it 
certainly seems as though our chances of being 
rescued are jolly slim, so that all our arrangements 
must be made for a winter campaign.” 

“There’s not the slightest doubt of that, Charlie. 
Let’s see, where’s the tally stick ? How many days 
have we been here?” 

Charlie took the stick and counted the notches. 
“Eighteen,” he said. 

“Well, we landed about the first of August, I 
believe, so to-day is the 18th. About the middle 
of October we shall have ice, but I imagine it will 
not be thick enough to bother us until November, 
so we can count on about two months before the 
winter weather begins to make the work hard. 
And during these two months what have we got to 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 195 

do? — build a proper house, shoot enough caribou 
to keep us going for at least six months, also get 
some hares and ptarmigan which can be put in cold 
storage. Now what else is there? Oh! Blue- 
berries to be gathered and plenty of them, too, and 
spatterdock roots. That’s all I can think of.” 

“What about the most important item — fuel?” 
asked Charlie. “Getting enough of that will be 
our biggest job, and then we shall have to make 
snow-shoes, otherwise we won’t be able to get 
about at all, once the snow comes to stay. We 
ought to make a couple of light sleds if we can, in 
order to carry our meat and anything else. It’s 
beastly hard work carrying loads on snow-shoes, I 
believe. * The supply of arrows also must be made, 
so altogether we shall have our time well occupied; 
and the days are getting shorter, which means less 
working hours, as we can do nothing by fire-light. 
The whole question is: What shall we do first?” 

“I think, Charlie, we should visit those ponds 
to-morrow and get the caribou gut if possible, 
and then set about building our winter house.” 

“I agree with you. Shall we build it here or 
look for a better place? This seems rather too 
exposed for a winter home. Farther in the woods, 
so that we could have the protection of the firs 
and spruces, would be far better. Why couldn’t 
we look for a place to-morrow?” 


ADVENTURES IN 


196 

“ Certainly, and there’s just one thing more 
before we go to sleep,” Jack said. “I think we 
could live on here for some time to come so that 
we could keep the beacon fire going, and if any one 
did happen to come near, we might see them.” 

Charlie thoroughly agreed with this, and they 
turned over and were almost immediately asleep. 

The following morning was dull and gloomy, 
but as the rain had stopped, the two boys started 
off for the ponds as soon as they had eaten break- 
fast and made up the fires. In a little more than 
an hour they came to the tributary stream and 
followed it along its winding way. They had gone 
about half a mile when Jack caught sight of a 
gleaming white stick floating on the water. They 
managed to secure it without much difficulty, and 
were delighted to find that it was very evidently 
a beaver cutting, for it was exactly like the piece 
they had found in the lake on their memorable 
fishing trip two years ago. 

“I guess that settles the beaver question,” said 
Jack. 

“Not much doubt about it,” Charlie agreed. 
“Come on, let’s hurry up.” 

Half running and half walking, they made their 
way up stream. Several pieces of freshly cut wood 
were seen. At last they came to the object of 
their search, a real beaver dam about fifty feet 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


197 

long and fully seven feet high. The boys could 
scarcely contain themselves when they saw this 
example of engineering skill, and their delight 
increased when they saw a hundred feet or more 
above that there was another and still larger 
dam. 

“By Jove! but these must have taken the ani- 
mals a long time to build. Just think of the 
amount of wood there is in each of these dams/’ 
Charlie said, as he walked over the larger struc- 
ture, lost in admiration at the magnitude of the 
work. 

He was even more pleased than Jack at finding 
this beavers’ work; for many years he had been 
keenly interested in everything to do with these re- 
markable animals, and had read whatever he could 
find on the subject. Here at his very hand was 
the opportunity he had longed for of studying 
the habits of the beaver directly from nature. 
In his mind he planned to spend much time 
observing the animals. But there was much to 
be done during the few weeks that remained be- 
fore winter, and, as will be seen, later on little 
opportunity was offered for the contemplated 
studies. 

“I’ve got an idea, Charlie, a really brilliant 
one, too. Why can’t we use this cut wood for 
fires and for building? Here it is already cut, 


ADVENTURES IN 


198 

and we could easily float it down stream to 
wherever we are going to build our house. ” 

“Good for you,” Charlie replied with enthusi- 
asm. “It will be rough on the beaver, but after all 
they can cut plenty more wood and rebuild the 
dams, and we certainly need this nice short wood. 
Lots of it is quite large enough for building pur- 
poses, and we can pick out the straightest pieces 
for that, while the crooked bits will do for fire- 
wood. Let us go on and see what there is above. 

In the first pond, which was about three hun- 
dred yards long, they saw two large houses, or 
lodges as they are more usually called, built on 
little islands some distance from the shores of the 
pond. Near each of these there was a pile of dead 
brush protruding above the surface of the water. 
These were the remains of last year’s food piles, 
though at the time, the boys did not know it. 
Along the shores were many blunt-pointed stumps 
of the trees which the beavers had cut, and many 
logs too large to be utilized by the industrious 
animals. Some of these might be rolled into 
the water and steered down stream and perhaps 
used for building material. The two very excited 
boys walked to the upper end of the pond, and, 
following the stream, soon found several more 
dams, all rather smaller than the first two. Above 
these was another pond with one very large lodge. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


199 

Above this again were three more ponds of gradu- 
ally diminishing size, and below each were the 
dams which made them. Apparently each pond 
was inhabited, for they contained one or more 
lodges, all in fair condition, and the remains of 
several old and evidently disused lodges. Sev- 
eral hours were spent examining the colonies, but 
to the boys’ disappointment no beaver were seen. 
It was too early in the day, and only on rare 
occasions do they come out earlier than an hour 
before sunset. 

Remembering the need for sinew the boys had to 
leave the ponds and retrace their steps down the 
stream, and then turn off at the river and make 
their way to where the stag had been shot. Just 
before they reached the place, two caribou 
appeared on the barren, but, notwithstanding the 
most careful stalking, the presence of the hunters 
was discovered before they were within shooting 
range, and the animals returned to the thick woods 
and were not seen again. Foxes and birds, both 
jays and ravens, had been ahead of the boys and 
they found nothing left of the animal they had shot 
that could be used, so they decided to come back 
the following day and try to get another caribou. 

While on their return to camp, the country was 
carefully examined with a view to finding a suit- 
able site for the winter hut. After much search- 


200 


ADVENTURES IN 


ing, they found a well-sheltered place protected on 
three sides by a thick belt of evergreens, while to 
the south it was fairly open. This spot was about 
a hundred yards from Beaver Stream, as it was 
decided to call the tributary stream. The ground 
was covered with mossy stones and sloped down 
to the water, and was high enough up to be safe 
from floods. The main river was only four 
hundred yards away. Altogether the boys were 
delighted with the situation, as it seemed to 
answer all their needs, including the easy trans- 
port of the beaver wood from the dams. Beaver 
Stream Camp was to be the name of their winter 
habitation, and they looked forward eagerly to 
the pleasure of building it. Plans were discussed 
all the rest of the way to camp, and they could 
scarcely wait for the time to come when the dams 
would be broken and the wood floated down stream 
for their use in building. 

Both Charlie and Jack had seen pictures of 
trappers’ huts, and they knew that in order to be 
easily warmed they must be small and low; an 
average height about six and a half feet, fourteen 
feet long inside and nine feet wide seemed to be 
about the right size. The chimney and fire- 
place must be made of stones and clay. How to 
make the walls was a difficult problem, consider- 
ing the size of the available wood. A regular log 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


201 


hut they could not make, as they had no axe; so, 
after much discussion, it was settled that a com- 
bination of timber, bark, and earth would be best, 
making the walls wide at the base and sloping 
toward the top, the framework, to be made of 
the largest wood they could get, stacked, as shown 
in the sketch of the house. Bark would be laid 
against the inner sides and the space filled with 
peat. 

This would make a wind-proof wall that would 
be very warm. The roof would be of two thick- 
nesses of bark with turf laid between. This 
meant that they would need a lot of birch bark, 
far more than they had collected, and more must 
be got immediately. The boys reached camp 
while discussing these plans, and after tending the 
fires they cooked their supper and turned in, to 
sleep to the accompaniment of rain and a rising 
wind, which developed to a regular gale before 
morning. 

Notwithstanding the badness of the weather, 
the boys were up early and, after a quick break- 
fast, started to Beaver Creek in order to peel birch 
bark. It was getting late in the year for this 
task, and they experienced great difficulty in 
obtaining the large sheets that were needed. The 
best pieces were put on one side to be kept for 
roofing. All day they worked hard, and by night 


202 


ADVENTURES IN 


had collected a very fair-sized pile, which, together 
with what they already had, would be enough for 
the new hut. It was late when they finally 
returned to camp, thoroughly wet and very tired 
but full of enthusiasm and hope. The steady 
rain would be of use to them, as the stream would 
be full enough to carry down the wood from the 
beaver dam, so they decided to take advantage of 
it and begin floating the supply down early next 
day. Accordingly, after a very early breakfast, 
they made straight for the dams. The stream 
was found to be very full, so no trouble was anti- 
cipated in getting the wood down. After looking 
over the situation, Charlie said: 

“I think the best way will be for both of us to 
start loosening this second dam and get a lot of 
wood down to the first one. Then we can open 
that, and while one of us steers it through the 
opening, the other can go below and drag it ashore 
opposite the new camp.” 

The idea seemed a good one, and soon they were 
hard at work. It was no easy task, either, for 
the logs and sticks were pretty well interwoven. 
Some of the material was so old and rotted that 
it would not float, but most of the larger pieces 
were fairly sound. After two hours of industrious 
labour the narrow pool formed between the two 
dams was well filled with floating wood, so the 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 203 

lower dam was opened, but not without consider- 
able difficulty. The boys were surprised to find 
how solidly the beaver do their work. It took 
nearly half an hour to make an opening of suffi- 
cient size. As soon as it was done, the wood 
was steered down the rushing water and started 
on its way. The boys drew lots for which should 
go down to receive it, with the result that Jack 
stayed behind and Charlie went. By going fast 
he reached the place selected for landing the wood 
before the advance guard arrived, and had time to 
cut a long, thin sapling with which to steer the 
wood ashore. 

Soon it began to come, one piece after an- 
other, with alarming speed; so fast indeed that 
many a stick escaped, in spite of his tireless en- 
ergy. After some time he decided to go a little 
farther down stream, to where there was a small 
pool or back eddy formed by a very large rock. 
Into this pool he steered the floating wood, taking 
it ashore only when an opportunity occurred. 
At the end of two hours Jack joined him, and 
between them they saved every piece that came 
along. The amount collected was most grati- 
fying, and would prove sufficient for the present. 
The straightest and best pieces were hauled up to 
the camp site to be used for building, and the rest 
stacked up to dry for fuel. 


204 BEAVER STREAM CAMP ' 

Altogether the result of the day’s work was 
most satisfactory to them, at least. How the 
beaver would like it was another question. By 
the time the work was finished, the afternoon was 
well passed and the boys were so tired that they 
could scarcely walk back to camp. Little time 
was lost in getting supper cooked, and it was fol- 
lowed immediately by bed and a good night of 
wholesome, well-earned sleep. 


CHAPTER XI 


THEY BUILD THEIR WINTER HOUSE ON BEAVER STREAM 
—SEE A VESSEL WHICH DOES NOT SEE THEM— SHOOT 
THEIR SECOND CARIBOU— FIND FRESH-WATER PEARLS 
AND SHOOT A BIG BEAR 

B EFORE beginning work on the hut, the 
boys went over to the barren (which they 
named First Stag Barren in honour of 
the animal they had killed there) in the hope of 
finding caribou. Very foolishly they approached 
from the windward side and they entered the open 
ground just in time to see two white tails disap- 
pearing in the opposite woods. 

“What rotten luck!” was Jack’s remark, when 
the animals had vanished. 

“What utter stupidity, I should call it,” Charlie 
replied. “Why on earth didn’t we think of the 
wind ? Of course they could smell us long before 
we even came in sight. Oh, well, I suppose we 
shall learn some day, but in the meantime let us get 
a few berries; it’s about the last of these bake 
apples. The rain has pretty well spoilt them. 
Pity there are no blueberries near.” 

They managed to find enough to help the next 
205 


20 6 


ADVENTURES IN 


two meals, and then returned to start Beaver 
Camp. First of all, the inside square was staked 
out and logs laid for the base of the walls; then 
great sheets of peaty earth were piled to form 
rough walls, against which on either side bark was 
placed. The next step was to lay a row of the 
straightest poles so that they pressed against the 
bark and held it in position, the lower and thicker 
ends being driven into the ground, the inner and 
outer rows leaning toward each other, so that the 
base of the wall was rather less than five feet wide 
and the upper part about two feet. The front of 
the hut was eight feet six inches in height, sloping 
to five feet at the back. This gave a steep enough 
pitch to carry off rain or melting snow, so that 
there would be little fear of leaks. The poles at the 
top were lashed to each other with witherod, in 
order that the filling of peat could be packed down 
very firmly. 

It required nearly three days to complete 
the walls, after which the building of the chim- 
ney was commenced. At the end of a day and 
a half, a very respectable piece of rough ma- 
sonry crowned their efforts. The fireplace was 
large enough to allow the use of good-sized wood, 
and was built on a good foundation of stone. 
The clay brought from the river proved to be the 
right kind and, after a little working, came into ex- 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


207 




208 


ADVENTURES IN 


cellent condition. Flat stones abounded in the 
neighbourhood, so the work went along with little 
difficulty and the boys were extremely proud of 
their achievement. The roof required poles nearly 
fourteen feet long. These were difficult to obtain 
of the proper thickness. The beaver poles were 
not long enough, so they had to cut sapling with 
their knives, a very tedious task. Fourteen were 
required, and the boys’ hands were blistered be- 
fore they had secured the number. At length 
they had them, and it was the work of only a few 
minutes to put them in position with the bark 
laced and well overlapped. On top of the first 
layer were laid strips of peat, peeled from the 
rocks, till there was five inches between the two 
layers of bark. This, of course, made a consid- 
erable weight and a central support was needed. 
For this a stout, forked pole was used, with a 
six-foot piece laid in the crotch to distribute the 
support. All of this took two whole days, but 
at the end of that time the outside of the hut 
was completed, all but the door; a most satis- 
factory job it was, too, and the boys were justly 
proud. 

“It won’t take much fire to keep us warm in 
that house,” Jack remarked. “Those walls will 
keep out the cold, I’ll bet a dollar.” 

“The making of a door is going to be something 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP , 209 

of a job. I expect we’ll have to make it of two 
caribou skins stretched on a frame, with moss in 
between. Then it will be reasonably light and at 
the same time keep out some of the cold, but all 
these things can be done later. A rough shack 
outside to store our wood and one to store meat 
would be useful, but just now, if my tally stick 
tells the truth, it’s the 29th of August, and we 
must be getting a move on or we’ll be caught with- 
out food. Within the next week or two we should 
get our berry supply, or part of it at any rate, and 
the spatterdock roots.” 

“But, Charlie, don’t you think we should try 
for a caribou to-morrow and also have a look at 
the pool to see if there are by chance any salmon? 
A few more would be welcome.” 

“Certainly,” Charlie replied. “To-morrow 
we’ll be up early, have a look at the salmon pool 
first, then-to the caribou barren and see what luck 
is in wait for us. Failing to get anything in either 
place, we’ll keep on to the blueberry bog, get a 
good lot, and perhaps run* up against some ptar- 
migan. In the meantime, let us stop staring at 
and admiring our new palace and trot along back 
to camp and cook something, for I am famished. 
We’ve been so blessed interested in this house that 
our tummies have been sadly neglected of late. 
Oh! wait a moment. Where’s your bow and an 


210 


ADVENTURES IN 


arrow? Look over there just behind that low 
bush, a whopping big hare.” 

Jack, with his bow ready, took a couple of steps 
forward, staring intently at the low thick bush. 
Presently a very large hare hopped out into the 
open not twelve feet away, paying not the least 
attention to the two boys. Jack drew and fired 
with great care, and the hare fell. 

“That settles the dinner question, at any rate,” 
he said, as he marched forward and picked up his 
prize. 

“That is what I call jolly good luck and we 
certainly needed something good for dinner. 
Come along now and let’s eat him,” Charlie said; 
and off they went. 

On arriving at the camp they both noticed that 
the beacon fire had gone out, or at least was not 
sending up any smoke, so Charlie went to put it 
right, leaving Jack to get the camp fire ready for 
cooking. While he was busily engaged in skinning 
and washing the hare, he heard Charlie calling in a 
wildly excited manner: 

“Jack, Jack, come here quick!” 

Not knowing what was up, he dropped the hare 
and ran. Charlie was standing with his back to 
him, gazing intently out to sea, where a vessel was 
fast vanishing from sight round the lower head- 
land. Jack watched it a moment, then said: 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


211 


“By Jove, she must have passed within half a 
mile of us, but the fire was out, so of course she 
could not know we were here.” 

“IPs almost the first time the beacon has been 
out since we came, and of course it happened at 
the wrong moment. Oh, well, there’s no use 
crying about it, but still, Jack, on the family’s 
account I’m frightfully sorry.” 

“Yes, but why don’t you be quite honest and 
say that you would much rather stay on here, for 
a time anyhow. Just think how sick you would 
have been if we had had to leave our beautiful, 
new hut without even sleeping in it once. It’s 
rough on the family, very rough, but think what 
rejoicing there will be when the two prodigals 
return. Why, talk of fatted calves, we’ll be 
regular heroes and they’ll love us to death.” 

“That’s all right, Jack. I confess I would not 
care to leave here yet, but I would like them to 
know at home that we are alive and happy,” 
Charlie replied, looking thoughtful. 

“Oh, cheer up, old chap,” said Jack. “The 
boat’s gone, but my appetite hasn’t. Come 
along, finish your beacon fire job, and hustle back 
to grub. I’ll be off now to get that hare done”; 
and he ran back. 

Four jays had discovered the freshly skinned 
hare and were enjoying their meal. Fortunately, 


212 


ADVENTURES IN 


Jack had not been away very long, or he would 
have found nothing left but well-picked bones, as 
the jays have a great objection to letting anything 
be wasted and, after having eaten their fill, would 
certainly have carried away the rest and hidden it 
in the near-by trees. Their common name of 
camp robber is well earned. Jack rescued what 
was left of the hare and soon had it roasting in 
front of the fire. When Charlie returned dinner 
was ready. While they were eating it, Jack sug- 
gested that the supply of salt was not being made 
quickly enough, so they decided to get several more 
flat stones and water buckets and increase the 
output, as it would be much easier to do it at the 
camp near the sea than when they moved to Beaver 
Stream. The first thing next morning the salt 
collectors were arranged, and about nine o’clock 
the boys paid a visit to the salmon pool. One 
fish was seen, and after some difficulty they se- 
cured it, after which they made their way to First 
Stag Barren. 

This time they were careful to approach from 
the lee side and found no less than four caribou — 
a very old stag, a single doe, and a doe with a 
fawn. Which to go after was the question. The 
old stag was in the best place to stalk, but he 
would undoubtedly prove very tough eating, 
and he looked thin. After some deliberation, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


213 


the solitary doe was chosen. Fortunately, she 
was near a clump of small spruces, so the boys 
crawled to the cover, but found after getting there 
that they were still nearly a hundred yards from 
the animal. As there was no chance of approaching 
any nearer, they could do nothing but wait in the 
hope that she might feed in their direction. 

For about two hours they waited before the 
position improved, then the doe walked slowly, 
almost directly toward them. Then came the 
question whether to fire as she moved or try to 
get her to stop by making a noise. The former 
was considered better, because if she stopped she 
would probably turn head to them, which would 
mean a difficult shot. Slowly she approached, 
until at last she was within fifteen feet. At that 
distance they could not miss, so, full of confidence 
and excitement, they fired and had the satisfaction 
of killing almost immediately. The boys were 
greatly pleased with their success, and started at 
once to skin and clean the animal. This time 
nothing was wasted, and they procured sufficient 
material in the way of sinews and gut to make all 
the arrows they wanted, besides having plenty 
left for sewing and other possible uses. There was 
also a fine supply of meat and a good skin, which 
would be most useful. It was very late when they 
reached camp, laden down with their booty. 


214 


ADVENTURES IN 


Then while Charlie prepared the meat for smoking, 
Jack went for the salmon that had been left hid- 
den near the pool. But something had been there 
before him and the fish had vanished. It was 
too dark to see the tracks of the thief, so he 
returned to camp with the bad news, determined 
to make a careful examination in the morning. 
It might have been a fox, a bear, or an otter, but 
which was never known, as before morning there 
was a heavy rain which washed away the tracks. 

In spite of the bad weather the boys had to 
keep at work, first of all on enlarging the smoke- 
house which was getting over-full, and then in 
gathering firewood. Later in the afternoon the 
weather cleared, and they visited the salmon 
pool but saw no sign of any fish. Evidently the 
main run had gone up toward the spawning beds, 
and if they wanted more fish that is where they 
would have to go. The day had not been a 
lucky one, as nothing had been added to their 
supplies, and they spent the rest of the evening 
making arrows. The gut proved most satis- 
factory for binding on both the feathers and the 
flint tips, and the finished arrows were thoroughly 
useful and workmanlike. 

During the three days that followed, the 
weather was so bad that the boys could scarcely 
venture from the shelter of their lean-to. The 







BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


2I 5 


wind blew with such violence that trees were 
uprooted and branches torn off in all directions. 
Several times it looked as though the lean-to 
would be hurled to the ground. Props had to be 
placed against it to keep it up, and against the 
smoke-house, so the boys had an anxious time. 
Cooking under these conditions was most difficult. 
In fact, it was only after a windbreak had been 
built of stones and sod that the fire could be 
utilized at all. 

Toward the end of the third day the fury of 
the storm abated, and the boys, wondering whether 
their new hut had suffered, paid it a visit. Fortu- 
nately, the position of the hut had been well- 
chosen, and the thick woods had protected it from 
serious damage. Only a small part of the roof 
had been torn loose and this was quickly repaired. 
The following day was calm but very gloomy, and 
Charlie suggested a trip inland for berries and 
ptarmigan. The walk was entirely uneventful. One 
caribou was seen a long way off, but otherwise the 
country seemed unusually lacking in life. The 
gloom of the day was made doubly noticeable by 
the incessant croaking of the ravens, bevond which 
there was no sound. 

The boys made straight for the blueberry bog, 
stopping only long enough to make large bark 
bags when they found suitable birch trees. The 


21 6 


ADVENTURES IN 


berries had ripened since the last visit and were 
now in good condition for picking. Their extraor- 
dinary abundance made the filling of the bark 
bags a very easy matter, and by noon the recep- 
tacles were full. Then they were carried to the 
“ice-house,” as it seemed likely that they would 
keep well if buried in the ice. On reaching the 
cold cave, Charlie said: 

“Why not try putting some in the ice and the 
others in the small stream of cold water at the 
entrance of the cave? We could easily make a 
hole big enough to hold a couple of these bags.” 

Jack agreed, and after packing two of the bags 
in ice, they excavated a hole in the bed of the 
little stream and in this placed the remaining 
bags, with a large stone on top to keep them sub- 
merged and protect them against a possible visit 
from hungry or inquisitive bears. This done to 
their entire satisfaction, the boys went in search of 
ptarmigan and after a long chase succeeded in 
getting seven. Then a few more berries were 
picked for immediate use, and they started home- 
ward, for the camp was now regarded quite in 
the light of a home. Their way led them past 
the sandy reach of the river. A short distance 
below the sand the water was fairly shallow and 
covered with long green grass, which waved in 
the current as though it were a living thing. On 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 217 

a large flat stone in the stream Charlie noticed a 
collection of shells and asked Jack what he thought 
they could be. 

“Fresh-water clams, I expect, and they have 
apparently been eaten by muskrats. Let’s get 
some and see what they are like.” 

In a moment boots and stockings were off, and 
Jack soon had half a dozen very large clams, 
which he found under the waving grass. With 
the aid of a knife, one of the shells was opened and 
both boys looked at the yellowish clam and 
wondered if it could be eaten. As Jack turned 
the meat over, he noticed what at first seemed to 
be a large bubble, but on touching it with the 
point of his knife, it was found to be quite hard. 
With his finger he pushed it out, and to the delight 
and surprise of both boys, a large, round, pinkish 
pearl slid into the opened shell, i 

“By Jove!” Jack exclaimed. “What do you 
think of that? It’s a real pearl, and what a 
beauty. I wonder how much it is worth.” ^ 

“I don’t know, but it certainly is a fine one,” 
Charlie replied. “What a splendid colour, and 
so perfectly round. I say, we’ll make our for- 
tunes if we can get many like that. Let’s open 
the others and see if there are any more such 
treasures.” 

They did so with feverish haste, and found 


21 8 


ADVENTURES IN 


several more pearls, but all small and most of 
them imperfect. Notwithstanding the lateness 
of the hour, for they were still several miles from 
camp, they both got into the river and gathered 
clams as fast as possible. In a surprisingly short 
time they had several dozen thrown on the bank, 
and then began the exciting job of opening them. 
The second one that Charlie opened contained 
a beauty nearly as large as a pea and exquisite 
in colour. Unfortunately, it was not absolutely 
round. The total result of the catch was five 
large and fairly regular pearls and a number of 
small ones of various degrees of perfection. The 
occupation was so absorbing that another lot 
of clams was procured and still more pearls col- 
lected. Suddenly Charlie looked up from his 
work and exclaimed: 

“ Jack, do you realize what time it is ? The sun 
has set and it will be dark jolly soon. We really 
must be moving, though I confess Td far rather 
stick here and hunt for treasure. Come along, or 
we will get lost.” 

With reluctance Jack abandoned his clams and 
tied his precious pearls in the corner of his hand- 
kerchief, and off* they went. The sun had indeed 
set long ago, and before they had reached First 
Stag Barren night was on them and they found it 
difficult to make their way over the rough country. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


219 

Darker and darker it grew, not a star could be 
seen through the heavy banks of clouds, and the 
scattered clumps of spruce appeared as black shad- 
ows against the slightly lighter background. 
The boys floundered along, now stumbling over 
peaty tussocks, now into bog holes soft and 
slushy. All sense of direction was lost and after 
an hour they realized that they were far from the 
track which led to camp. Another hour and they 
found themselves back again at the river, for 
they had wandered in a circle, but the river was 
their salvation. They could follow its course 
even though it took them over some very rough 
country. Soon after they had started along the 
bank they came across a lot of clam shells. 

“Talk about going in circles,” said Jack. 
“Why, we’ve come back to where we started from 
an hour or two ago, and yet we thought we were 
going straight for camp. No wonder Steve or 
Andrew, I forget which, told us that nearly every- 
one did that. We must be more careful in the 
future.” 

“We certainly must; if it hadn’t been for the 
river, we should have spent the night going 
round and round and all our treasure of pearls 
wouldn’t have brought us a place in which to 
sleep. I think, Jack, my boy, we had better try 
to avoid any more night marches.” 


220 


ADVENTURES IN 


After what seemed an interminable time they 
came to Beaver Stream and from then on the way 
was easy. At last camp was reached and the 
boys were so tired they could scarcely manage to 
make fire and cook a couple of ptarmigan before 
turning in to sleep and dream of pearls as large 
as hens’ eggs. The first thing in the morning 
Charlie suggested another trip for blueberries 
and Jack, laughing, said: 

“Why don’t you call them pearls, for you know 
jolly well that’s what you mean.” 

“Well, of course we might try for some on our 
way back as we did yesterday, but really the 
berries are in the best possible condition for pick- 
ing and we should take every opportunity to get 
in a good supply before they get nipped by the 
frost. I vote we start as soon as we have finished 
breakfast.” 

This accordingly was done, and they made 
their way as fast as possible to Blueberry Bog. 
As they came to the edge of the bog carrying their 
bark bags for berries, Jack who was walking a few 
yards ahead caught sight of an immense bear 
busily engaged, eating the sweet fruit. Quickly 
crouching down among the blueberry bushes he 
pointed out the bear to Charlie> who, following 
his example, got down on his knees. To shoot 
that bear with bow and arrow would be a great 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 221 

feat, but then he looked so very large that the 
boys hesitated. Crouching low among the scrub 
they discussed the question in low whispers. 

“Its coat would be very warm for us,” said 
Charlie. 

“True enough,” Jack replied, “but I expect 
he would give us a good warming before we got it. 
Shall we have a try? It would be risky, but it's 
worth it I think. What say you, Charlie ? ” 

“Can't quite make up my mind,” he replied, 
staring at the glossy rich fur of the bear. After 
some time, he continued: “If only there was some 
way for us to escape in case he came for us I 
would feel better — but — well, I don’t know.” 

“Come on, Charlie, if we can get very close and 
there is a chance for a good broadside shot let’s 
have a try.” 

“Oh, very well, let’s crawl round by that thick 
bush,” Charlie replied, pointing to a low myrtle. 
With very modified enthusiasm they crept close 
to the ground and succeeded finally in reaching the 
bush. On peeping over the top they were horri- 
fied to see that the big bear was not more than 
eight or nine feet away. This was too close to 
be pleasant. However, each boy got his weapon 
ready, the best arrows were selected, and they 
waited with bows drawn taut, waited for what 
seemed hours, but the bear was in no hurry to 


222 


ADVENTURES IN 


turn a side view. At last he did so and as Jack 
whispered now , both arrows flew. To miss at 
that close range was impossible. It was only a 
question of whether the arrows would strike a 
vital part. 

There was no chance for speculation, for as 
soon as the shots were fired the bear came crash- 
ing almost straight for the frightened boys. 
The huge beast passed them within what seemed 
to be less than a yard, and both boys were too 
badly frightened to fire again until the bear was 
fifty feet or more away. Then Charlie fired at 
it and missed. Jack followed almost immediately 
and struck it in the back. The bear, feeling the 
shot, stopped, and, standing erect, turned toward 
the boys, who quickly reloaded and fired. One 
arrow struck true. The big beast wavered a 
moment, and then fell with a mighty crash stone 
dead. The boys could scarcely believe their eyes 
as they saw the effect of their arrows, and they 
rushed up to the animal so excited that they could 
scarcely speak. The bear was a splendid one 
and in prime condition, and as Charlie remarked 
while running his hands through the thick fur, 
“ By Jove, ^kron’t this keep us warm.” 

“No berry finding for us to-day, I’m thinking, 
and no pearling either,” Jack said. “We shall 
have all we can do to get this attended to, between 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP, 223 

skinning and preparing the skin and getting the 
meat stored. Shall we put it in the ice-house or 
take it back to camp and smoke it ? ” 

“Why not try both, half for each in case one 
should not succeed ? Then there’s the fat which 
is very useful, I believe, so we must save it care- 
fully.” 

The skinning of the bear did not take so 
very long. As soon as it was done the meat was 
cut up and half of it carried up the hill to the ice 
cave, and there stored carefully. On the way 
back to the berry bog the boys got a couple of 
ptarmigan. The remainder of the meat and the 
skin made two fairly good loads, but a few berries 
were carried as well. The afternoon was still 
young when they started on the way to camp, 
and a visit to the clam beds was suggested. It 
would give them a chance to rest on the way. 

“All the pearls we get won't add much to our 
load, I expect,” said Jack, “so let’s spend a couple 
of hours here and try our luck.” 

Charlie had not the slightest objection, for 
to tell the truth, the pearls fascinated him al- 
most as much as they did Jack and he enjoyed 
the excitement of searching for them as much 
as anything he had ever done. There was al- 
ways the chance of finding a really fine speci- 
men, and each clam hid its secret so well that 


ADVENTURES IN 


224 

none could tell which one contained the longed- 
for treasure. Scarcely were the loads thrown 
down than, with boots off, the boys were in the 
water feeling under the grass for the clams. As 
fast as they were found they were thrown on the 
bank, until after half an hour’s work there was a 
good-sized pile ready to be opened. The first two 
dozen or more gave nothing but small pearls, and 
not many of these. Then came a few of fair size, 
including some very perfect ones, but nothing ex- 
citing occurred until they got down toward the 
last of the pile, when Charlie found a beauty, 
large, round, and dark smoke-coloured with rich 
pink and purple reflections. It was a prize worth 
having and both boys were greatly excited. The 
very next clam that Charlie opened contained 
another splendid specimen of the most delicate 
pinky tones. Jack, too, got a fine one, so they were 
thoroughly satisfied with their afternoon’s work. 
As Jack said : 

“It paid to rest where you could pick up pearls 
with so little trouble.” 

Their luck was, of course, quite exceptional, for 
in Newfoundland pearls may be found in the clams 
of some rivers. Yet they are very scarce, and only 
once in a great while is one found of saleable size. 
It happened that the river in which the boys dis- 
covered the pearls was unusually suitable. The 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


225 

clean, sharp white sand evidently drifted down 
to the clam bed, and, getting into the clams when 
they were feeding, formed the cause of irritation 
which resulted in the formation of the pearls. As 
a rule, the clams are found chiefly in muddy bot- 
toms where there is no fine sand, hence one reason 
for the absence of pearls. 

The boys arrived at camp shortly before dark 
in a very happy frame of mind. The day had been 
perhaps the most successful since their arrival. 
Not only were there the three fine pearls and many 
good smaller ones; but the bear, besides represent- 
ing a feat of arms of which they had every reason 
to be proud, gave them a really useful robe, a 
supply of good meat, and a lot of much-needed fat. 
The meat was hung up in the smoke-house, all 
but enough for a couple of meals, and then they 
roasted a piece for supper. The excitement of 
the day had made them very tired, and after a 
few minutes’ talk over the adventures, they fell 
asleep. 


* 

CHAPTER XII 

THEY TAN THE BEAR SKIN— GET MORE PEARLS, BER- 
RIES, AND FIREWOOD— SEE SOME BEAVER WORK— A 
WEASEL SUPPLIES THEM WITH THEIR DINNER— THEY 
GET THEIR HARVEST OF ROOTS-MOVE TO BEAVER 
STREAM CAMP— COLLECT ACORNS— TRY CARIBOU MOSS 
FOR FOOD AND MAKE SNOW-SHOES 

T HE next day brought thoroughly disagree- 
able weather. A cold rain and fog made 
any idea of a long trip inland out of the 
question, so after gathering a supply of firewood, 
the boys amused themselves by trying to tan the 
bear’s skin with the animal’s brains. This they 
had heard was the proper way when there was 
nothing better available. 

“I w'onder if the brains should be cooked or 
raw?” Jack asked. 

“I really cannot remember, but it seems to me 
that I read once about using liver or something 
with the brains, and one of the two were first 
boiled. However, the brains used raw will prob- 
ably make some sort of a job, but we’ll have to do 
a lot of rubbing, I expect,” Charlie replied. 

“I expect so, too, but hadn’t we first better 
scrape the skin thoroughly so as to get all the 

226 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


227 

scraps of meat and fat off? I’m sure that’s neces- 
sary.” 

This, accordingly, they proceeded to do, and it 
proved very slow work. As soon as the skin was 
fairly clean, they took the brains and rubbed in a 
little, and, after warming the skin near the fire, 
began to work it with their hands. It seemed 
an endless task, and they wondered if it would ever 
be finished. As they did one part, the rest was 
laid across a log close to the fire, and to their dis- 
gust it began to harden as it dried. Evidently 
more rubbing and working was necessary, and this 
was kept up for many hours, until their fingers 
became quite sore. At last, however, the results 
of their labour became evident, for in some places 
the skin began to dry soft. Another two hours of 
steady work, and the whole skin was fairly dry 
and more or less soft and pliable. 

“Now, let’s hang it in the smokery, Jack; I’m 
sure that will be good for it,” said Charlie, as he 
surveyed the fine robe. The idea was practical 
and was at once carried out, and the skin was 
added to the much-overcrowded smoke-house. 

“I say, we really ought to take some of this 
stuff out of here, it’s absolutely chock-a-block,” 
Jack remarked, as he emerged from the smoky 
interior rubbing his smarting eyes. 

“And where shall we put it?” Charlie replied. 


228 


ADVENTURES IN 


“It must be kept dry, especially the salmon, or 
else it will be sure to spoil, especially if we get 
any warm weather. Why couldn’t we take it up 
to Beaver Stream Camp and hang it in the house? 
I don’t believe anything would touch it.” 

“Right you are, but let us take only a little at 
first and see what happens, as it wouldn’t do to 
run the risk of losing all this supply. Let’s take 
three fish and a part of the caribou, and we can 
easily fix up some sort of barricade as we have no 
door.” 

“Very well, Jack, we’ll do so, but I think it 
will be wiser to carry it up on a dry day, as the 
rain would soften it and start trouble.” 

The wet day had passed quite quickly with the 
tanning of the skin and various other odd jobs, 
and the boys were glad to see signs of clearing in 
the west as evening set in. There was a soft 
yellow light near the horizon and a thinning of 
the clouds, which promised well for the morrow. 
Plans were made, before turning in, to go for more 
berries, and perhaps spend another hour or so in 
pearl gathering. The weather kept its promise of 
the evening, and the morning broke clear and 
quiet and fairly warm, so the boys had an early 
breakfast and started for Blueberry Bog. No 
bears were there when they arrived, so they de- 
voted their entire attention to picking the bright 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


229 


blue fruit with which the low bushes were so thickly 
covered. Four big bark pails were filled and 
carried to the ice-house and put safely away. 
Then they filled four more pails to be taken back 
to camp. Part of this lot was to be stored under 
water and part to be dried. They didn’t want all 
their eggs in one basket, and no one could tell 
what might happen; if one lot was lost there 
was a chance of saving at least part of their sup- 
ply. 

It was late in the afternoon when the pearl bed 
was reached on their way to camp, so they had 
only an hour in which to hunt for treasure, for as 
Charlie wisely remarked: 

c “ All the pearls in the world won’t be much use 
to us if we have not got grub.” 

The storing of food was their chief task and 
anxiety, and for that everything must be sacri- 
ficed. Seven weeks still remained before there 
was much danger of bad weather and deep snow, 
and there was a lot to be done in that time. Only 
an occasional hour could be devoted to treasure 
hunting until the supplies of food had been pro- 
cured and full preparations made for the long, 
long winter. The result of an hour’s hard work 
at finding and opening clams was very satisfac- 
tory, and though no very large pearls were found, 
they got a number of medium-sized ones, many 


ADVENTURES IN 


230 

of which were of excellent quality. So they re- 
turned to camp as happy as could be. It was de- 
cided that the following day should be devoted 
to building a large shelter for firewood, and if 
there was time, they would visit the beaver dams 
and run some more wood down stream. The boys 
had breakfast before daylight, and then went to 
commence the shelter hut. Before leaving, some 
of the blueberries were laid out to dry, and the 
rest were taken to the house, together with some 
fish and meat from the smoke-house. Near Beaver 
Stream Camp a large hole was excavated in a boggy 
place. This filled immediately with very cold water, 
into which the berries were placed and carefully 
covered with boughs to protect and keep them cool. 
On looking over the supply of building material it 
was found that more would be needed for making 
the shelter. So the boys went up stream to the 
dams with the intention of floating some more 
beaver wood down to the landing place. 

“By Jove!” exclaimed Charlie, as they reached 
the dams. “Fll be hanged if the beaver haven’t 
mended it”; and sure enough, the opening made in 
the lower dam was thoroughly closed and most of 
the injury done by the boys to the upper one was 
repaired. 

“Which means,” said the practical Jack, “that 
we shall have all the work of making a fresh open- 



The stag crashed with full weight against the tree. It was a 
close shave, but Jack was safe ” 




































































































— 


















































































BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


231 

ing. Let’s see where they cut the trees, for nearly 
all of the repairs have been done with freshly cut 
wood.” 

So the boys went in search of the beaver’s 
cuttings. They soon found a number of shining 
white stumps of poplar and birch, and near some 
of them were the prostrate trunks from which in 
many cases only the tops and branches had been 
cut. Several of the trunks were marked at inter- 
vals varying with their thickness with small cuts 
as though the beaver intended later to divide the 
trees at these points. Jack, seeing these, said: 

“This is a find, for we can get these long pieces 
down to the stream and float them down, and 
they’ll be uncommonly useful for building ma- 
terial.” 

No sooner said than done, and the logs were 
quickly rolled or carried to the water’s edge and 
steered toward the dam. More than a dozen fine, 
long ones were secured, hauled over the upper 
dam, then a lot of material was loosened so that 
the pond between the two dams was filled with 
floating wood. The next thing to do was to open 
the lower dam. This took some time, as the repair 
work had been thoroughly well done. Eventually, 
however, an opening of sufficient size was made 
and the logs started down stream, Jack going 
ahead to land them as they reached the camp. 


232 


ADVENTURES IN 


> Before noon more than enough material had been 
collected to build the shelter, and the boys sat 
down to rest and have lunch before beginning the 
work. The structure was a very simple one, a 
framework of fairly strong poles covered over with 
boughs, and it was placed close to the door of the 
house, a covered way leading from one to the 
other. The part of the shelter nearest to the 
house was more carefully made, and had a bark 
roof and thick earth-filled walls. This was to be 
the store-house for meat and other things that 
could not be kept in the heated house. By even- 
ing the task was finished and the boys returned to 
camp. On their way they heard a strange sound. 

“What can that be?” cried Jack, as the painful 
crying continued. 

It seemed to be in the tangle of grass and shrubs 
and not more than fifty yards away. Charlie sug- 
gested a closer examination, so they both crept to- 
ward the sound. As they came nearer, it died down 
till there was nothing but a low wailing that could 
scarcely be heard. In the dim evening light it was 
uncanny, and the boys were almost afraid to ap- 
proach. The sound grew fainter each minute, and 
at last Charlie caught sight of the cause. A weasel 
had seized a hare back of its ear and was slowly 
killing it and drinking the warm blood. Thinking 
only to rescue the wretched animal, he rushed for- 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 233 

ward ; at first the weasel refused to let go of his prey, 
and not until Charlie was within a couple of feet 
did it relinquish its death grip and move away, 
gliding in and out of the tussocks, repeatedly 
coming so close that it seemed as though it would 
actually attack. Charlie picked up the hare, 
which was dead at last. He had come too late 
to save it. 

“ Let’s keep it,” said Jack. “It will make a 
good dinner for us and save the other food.” 

Charlie looked first at the hare and then at the 
indignant weasel, who kept darting about and 
peering at the intruders with its cruel little, bead- 
like eyes. 

“It’s rather a shabby trick,” he said, “to bag 
the little brute's dinner, but I suppose he can catch 
another more easily than we can, so let's take 
it along. It will be jolly handy, and it's some time 
since we had a hare.” 

It was quite dark when they reached camp, but 
the fire was soon made and a part of the hare 
roasted for supper. With the flaring up of the fire 
the boys discovered the sad fact that most of their 
drying blueberries had vanished, how or where 
they did not know. 

“I'll bet it's that rascally jay that has made 
such friends with us lately, evidently with a pur- 
pose,” said Jack, laughing, referring to a jay which 


ADVENTURES IN 


*34 

recently had been about the camp a great deal and 
had become very friendly. 

“Yes,” Charlie replied, “I expect it must be 
our little fluffy friend. Jolly lucky we didn’t 
leave many berries out to dry. As it is, more 
than half of what we put out have gone, and I 
don’t see how we are going to protect it unless per- 
haps we might put a piece of bark an inch or two 
above the berries. What are left seem to have 
scarcely begun drying. Looks like a long job, 
doesn’t it ?” 

“Yes, it does, and so far not a very paying one. 
Now what are the plans for to-morrow?” Jack 
asked, as he picked a bone. 

“Let us get some more wood from the dams 
while they are still open and the water is fairly 
high. Then next day we can make another 
trip for berries.” 

“How about the spatterdock roots? Shall we 
wait till later for that?” 

“I think so, for a few days at any rate. For 
the moment, the berries are most important, as we 
may expect frost in a very short time,” Charlie 
replied. “Let’s have breakfast very early so as 
to make a good long day and get in a lot of wood,” 
he added, as he threw himself on the bed. 

During the night there was a heavy fall of rain, 
much to the boys’ delight, as it would give a good 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


235 

head of water for running their wood. A very 
early start was made in the morning, and the boys 
on arriving at the dam could scarcely believe their 
eyes when they saw that the large opening which 
had been made only the previous day was mended 
again. They did not know or understand the 
industry of beaver, not only their industry but the 
extraordinary perseverance. Had the dam been 
broken open every day for two weeks or more, it 
w r ould be repaired each night with unfailing 
regularity. 

Charlie, with the look of surprise in his face, 
said: “Well, any one would have thought that 
we had hired these beaver to do our work. 
Here the very thing we wanted has been done. 
We should have had to close the dam before col- 
lecting the wood from above, otherwise it would 
drift down the stream and escape. So here come 
the little chaps, and as soon as our backs are turned 
they mend the break, and do it far better than we 
could.” 

“Talk about returning good for evil, Charlie. 
If ever there was a case of that, here it is. We 
smash their dam, steal their wood, and then, as 
though they hadn’t helped us enough, they do this. 
It makes me hate to take their wood, but I sup- 
pose we must have it.” 

“Yes,” Charlie replied. “I suppose we must. 


236 ADVENTURES IN 

It will mean more to us than to them. Of course, 
if we had an axe, we would have no excuse for this 
highway robbery. Do you know what I should 
like to do to-night when our work is finished ?” 

“ I think I can guess. Come back and watch the 
beaver repairing the dam.” 

“Yes, Jack, I vote we do it, too; it would be 
awfully interesting to see how they manage it. 
Just now, however, we had better be getting to 
work.” 

The result of the day’s labour was a fine pile of 
firewood, stacked up to dry near the shelter, and 
two very much-reduced dams. Practically all the 
sound wood of the upper structure was taken and 
a large part of the lower one, too. 

About an hour before sunset the boys returned 
to the pool and selected a good observation point 
on the lee shore, so that there was not much chance 
that the animals could smell them. They had 
been watching about half an hour when a small 
ripple was seen at the farther side of the pond. 
Soon the boys made out a beaver swimming along 
not far from shore and coming toward them. It 
was the beaver on his tour of investigation, to 
make sure that all was safe before letting the rest 
of the family come out to feed and work. The 
entire circle of the pond was made; sometimes he 
went fast, sometimes slow; and several times, as 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


2 37 


though suspicious, he stopped perfectly still for 
quite a long time. At last, satisfied that all was 
well, he went to where a cluster of willows and 
alders grew at the water’s edge, and, cutting a 
small branch, sat in the shallow water and began 
eating the bark from it. The grating sound of 
his sharp teeth could easily be heard, and evidently 
it was intended as a signal of safety, for almost im- 
mediately the rest of the beaver family appeared 
in the water near the large lodge, seven of them 
altogether. They swam about for a short time 
and then went to the water’s edge and began their 
frugal repast. 

By this time the sun had set, and the beautiful 
quiet gloom of twilight took the place of the 
bright day. As the boys watched and listened 
there was no sound save the scraping of the many 
sets of sharp teeth, and occasionally the zvhoo y 
zvhody zvhdd, who whodd of the owls. The golden 
glow of the sky was reflected in this placid pool, 
and the reflections of the dark trees seemed as 
solid as their originals. It was all very beautiful. 
To add to the interest of the picture, two beaver 
swam across the pond, each bringing a long stick. 
On they came till they reached the upper dam, 
not more than thirty yards from where the boys 
crouched. Each beaver appeared to know ex- 
actly what to do. The sticks were pushed into the 


ADVENTURES IN 


238 

broken part of the dam and secured in their place. 
Then one of the two came out on to the exposed 
crest of the dam and walked slowly along as 
though trying to estimate the amount of damage 
that had been done to the structure. While he 
was thus engaged, two other beaver came over, 
one bringing a large sod and the other a piece of 
wood. This material was carefully disposed of. 
Then one after the other they all dived and brought 
up large chunks of black muck, which were added 
to the facing of the dam where it had been in- 
jured. The boys were intensely interested in 
watching the proceedings and failed to notice that 
a very gentle breeze, so gentle that it was scarcely 
perceptible, had sprung up and was blowing softly 
from them to the pond. Suddenly all work 
stopped, and one of the beaver after a moment’s 
hesitation struck the water a resounding smack 
with his tail, and instantly all four disappeared. 
From the other side of the pond an answering 
splash was heard, and then once more absolute 
silence reigned.* 

“That ends the show for this time,” said Jack. 
“Guess we might as well trot along home and get 
something to eat; but I did enjoy watching those 
little beasts working, didn’t your” 


*Full details of the work done by beavers will be found in “The 
Romance of the Beaver” by the same author. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


239 

“ Rather. Im only sorry there wasn’t better 
light, so that we could have seen them more 
clearly. It would be a good idea to come again 
another evening when we have a chance. Perhaps 
we may see them doing something else.” 

“I want to see them cutting down a tree,” said 
Jack. 

“So do I,” Charlie replied, “but I expect we 
shall not have much chance of seeing that except 
by moonlight.” 

“I wonder if it’s true that they always cut a 
tree down so that it falls toward the water?” Jack 
asked. 

“It looks like it, for nearly every tree we have 
seen down w T as cut that way, but I expect it’s 
because the trees grow toward the open space of 
the pond. Most of them lean that way, and you 
notice that the branches are thickest on the water 
side, so no matter how the tree was cut it would 
most probably fall in that direction.” 

“I expect you’re right; but if that is so, why 
do the writers always make such a fuss about what 
they say is one of the marvellous examples of the 
beaver skill, when really it’s only a perfectly nat- 
ural result?” 

“Don’t you remember, Jack, what Mr. Pratt 
and your father often said, that so many of the 
natural history writers try to find wonderful 


ADVENTURES IN 


240 

reasons for what animals do and point out such 
things as this, which are not very wonderful, and 
fail to see the really marvellous things? They 
don't use their eyes enough, I expect." 

“You mean they don't connect their eyes to 
their brains, as Dad used to say. Well, if only we 
have the time, we ought to have a fine chance to 
study beaver work here. Then we can write a 
book about it when we get home, whenever that 
will be. Do you realize that it’s very nearly six 
weeks since we landed? Seems like six years, 
doesn’t it?" 

“Yes, it does; but I confess I have never enjoyed 
any six weeks so much. Still, some civilized food 
would taste good. Think of a nice rich pun’kin 
pie." 

“ Oh, shut up ! Let’s forget all such delicacies and 
enjoy our smoked caribou — I mean venison, that 
sounds better — and salmon and hares and ptar- 
migan, to say nothing of blueberries and spatter- 
dock roots and reindeer moss, though we haven’t 
tried that yet. Do you know, we have a fine 
variety to choose from, though I confess I’d 
swap some of it for a bit of good bread and butter, 
or a plate of well-browned slapjacks with maple 
syrup; positively makes my mouth water to think 
of it." 

“Hold on, Jack, or I’ll murder you. I vote we 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


241 

agree not to mention such things again until we 
see some chance of getting them. Here we are,” 
said Charlie, as they reached camp. “Now let’s 
get a move on and get some grub, for I’m tired 
through and through.” 

The next day was spent in gathering blue- 
berries, with the usual stop at the clam bed. 

“The pearls don’t seem to be at home to-day,” 
said Jack, as they opened one after another of the 
clams and only found a few very small pearls. 
Only one of decent size was obtained, which was 
disappointing. However, the following day they 
had much better luck, when after gathering a lot 
of berries they devoted a couple of hours to their 
favourite pastime. No less than seven fine 
pearls were found, one of which was of extraordi- 
nary size and beauty. Three more days were 
devoted to berries and pearls with satisfactory 
results. The quantity of fruit now collected 
was sufficient to last a very long time, and the 
next thing to claim their attention was the harvest 
of spatterdock roots. It was decided to store these 
in two ways, under water and in wet moss, well 
covered over to protect them from the frost. 
The gathering of the roots was a rather difficult 
task and occupied a considerable amount of time. 
For eight days the boys laboured incessantly, 
dragging the soft muddy bottoms of every pool 


ADVENTURES IN 


242 

within several miles of the camp. In the end, a 
good supply was obtained and carefully stored 
close to the hut. In the bog a small pond was 
made, into which half of the supply was packed 
and covered over with bark and boughs, while 
the other half was banked up with moss and earth. 
A whole day was spent doing this. One evening 
the boys were sitting before their fire enjoying the 
warmth of the glowing logs. They had just 
finished their meal, when Jack said : 

“I suppose the migration of caribou is due to 
begin within the next three weeks, for I think 
Andrew said it could be expected about the middle 
of October, and this is the 23 rd of September, if 
I am not mistaken. Oughtn’t we make our prep- 
arations for them?” 

“Yes,” Charlie replied, “we should have a 
couple of extra bows, at any rate, but that’s 
about all the preparation there is to be made. 
We should, however, do practically all that 
needs to be done before snow comes, as soon as 
possible. I would suggest that we move to our 
hut, so that we can make it more comfortable. It 
will save us a good deal of walking. One of us can 
come here each day to attend to the beacon, though 
I confess I’ve pretty well lost hope in it doing any 
good. If you like, we could make a lean-to near 
the hut and live in it until the cold weather.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


243 

“Right you are. We can do that, and why not 
make the move to-morrow. Then we’ll be on the 
spot and be able to get things in readiness.” 

“Very well, Jack. To-morrow we leave and 
take our goods and chattels with us. One of the 
first things we should do is to make two pair of 
snow-shoes, as we cannot tell when the heavy 
snow will come.” 

The next day all the belongings were carried up 
to the Beaver Stream Camp, including the smoked 
meat and fish. This was hung in the larder, as 
the boys called the enclosed end of the shelter. 
A lean-to was built with its back against the 
front of the hut, with a fireplace in front and a 
small smoke-house was made opposite the hut, so 
that any fresh meat procured before cold weather 
could be kept in good condition, and the place 
began to look quite like a little colony. All of 
this occupied the day from dawn till dark, and the 
boys were thoroughly tired when they sat down to 
enjoy their evening meal. A hunt for ptarmigan 
was decided on for the next day, as these birds 
furnished the best food they could get. Very 
early in the morning, Charlie went to River 
Camp in order to put fuel on the beacon fire, while 
Jack got breakfast ready and attended to 
odd jobs. Immediately after breakfast they 
started up country in search of birds. Before 


ADVENTURES IN 


244 

reaching the top of the hill, which was named 
Look-out Hill, they had secured sixteen ptarmigan, 
all of which were stored in the ice-house, after 
being carefully cleaned. Four more were killed 
on the way back, and a large bag of blueberries 
picked. It was too late to stop at the clam beds, 
much to the boys’ disgust, as they were very 
anxious to find more pearls. 

“Let’s spend one whole day here soon,” said 
Jack, as they passed the clam beds, “and see how 
many we can get. We have surely earned a little 
rest after all the hard work we have been doing 
lately; so what do you say to coming here tc-mor- 
row and trying our luck ? ” 

Charlie agreed, and the following day they 
came. 

“We’ll get a really large pile before we begin 
opening any,” Charlie suggested; so they waded 
in and for three hours did nothing but search for 
clams. A large pile was collected, and then after 
a light lunch of cold ptarmigan and berries, the 
exciting work commenced. The first clam opened 
by Jack produced a splendid dark pearl. It was 
an omen of good luck, he declared, as he laid his 
treasure on a piece of bark; and so it proved. 
Never had they enjoyed such wonderful success, 
and by the time the last clam was opened, they 
had a collection of nearly a hundred large and 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


245 

reasonable-sized pearls. How much the lot repre- 
sented, the boys had no idea, but it seemed to 
them that they must be worth a fortune. 

Unfortunately, fresh-water pearls have little 
value as compared to those found in salt water, 
but they did not know this and they gloated over 
their treasure before packing them up carefully. 
On their way to camp, several caribou were seen; 
among them was one very large stag with remark- 
able horns, from which hung shreds of velvet that 
blew about as the animal moved across the wind- 
swept barren. The boys were delighted to see 
such a splendid creature and only regretted that 
the lateness of the hour prevented them stalking 
it, so that they might have a nearer view. 

Gathering firewood was the next task to be 
undertaken. This meant another visit to the 
beaver dams, which were found to have been 
entirely repaired and a great deal of new wood 
added. Evidently the beaver had been very 
busy since their last visit, for the ground all round 
the pond was strewn with freshly cut trees from 
which all the smaller branches and tops had been 
cut. In the pond, the lodges showed that repairs 
were being carried on, and near each of them a 
small pile of browse showed above water. This 
was the supply of winter food. The boys spent 
some time examining the new work, and then 


ADVENTURES IN 


246 

turned to the task of collecting firewood. They 
employed the same method as on previous occa- 
sions and with the same satisfactory results. 

Four days were devoted to the task, and an 
immense pile of wood was collected. It was all 
stacked up to dry near the wood house, to be put 
under shelter as soon as it was ready. During 
these days the drying of blueberries progressed 
with great success, so much so that it was decided 
to devote two days to getting more of the fruit. 
A few “ pears” (Newfoundland name for Service 
berries) were also found, but as these did not 
keep they were used at once and made a welcome 
change from the blueberries. 

“What about the acorns ?” said Charlie one 
evening. “Oughtn’t we to have a look at those 
and see how they are getting along? And let’s try 
the caribou moss, too, so that if it’s good we can 
gather some before it’s covered with snow.” 

“Very well, we’ll go to-morrow and get what 
acorns we can, and try some of the moss also; and 
while we are out, we can get the frame wood for 
our snow-shoes. I expect the mountain ash will 
do, or young maple. We’ll try both,” Jack 
replied, and so on the following day they started 
for the oak trees they had seen some weeks ago. 

They were found without much difficulty, and 
the acorns were about ripe. By beating the 























































































* I 






















BEAVER STREAM CAMP 247 

branches a large number were secured from each 
of the two trees, but unfortunately they appeared 
to be the only oaks in the neighbourhood, for 
though the boys walked for several miles through 
the wood, no more were found. This meant that 
every acorn must be taken from the two trees, 
which by mere chance they had been lucky enough 
to discover. The dried caribou skins had been 
brought to be used as bags, and they easily held 
all the acorns. On the way back to camp, the 
boys secured some wood suitable for snow-shoe 
frames and some caribou moss. So the rest of 
the afternoon was well occupied in cutting down 
the saplings to the required thickness for the snow- 
shoes and in boiling the moss. It did not take 
long to finish trimming the long strips of wood. 
These were about eight feet long and one inch 
square. Unfortunately, the boys had never seen 
the round snow-shoes made for use in hilly coun- 
tries, so they stuck to the conventional long 
pattern. After making several attempts to bend 
the strips, Charlie became discouraged, and 
said: 

“Whatever shall we do to get the proper shape? 
This wood will break for certain if we bend it, 
and even if we get it to the required shape it 
would have so much spring that it would be very 
hard to keep it right.” 


ADVENTURES IN 


248 

“Why not try steaming it ?” said Jack. “That’s 
what they always do to get wood into any particu- 
lar shape.” 

“That’s all very well, but how shall we steam 
it?” Charlie asked. 

“I really don’t know. Perhaps we can first 
soak the wood in water and then wrap green 
moss round the middle where we want it to bend 
and hold it close to the fire. I’m nearly sure the 
wet moss will make it steam without burning. 
We can try it, anyhow.” 

While the wood was soaking in the water, the 
boys took a look at the moss, which was cooking. 

“Well, a more disgusting-looking mess I’ve 
never seen. It’s all slime. If it doesn’t taste 
better than it looks, we won’t have to store much 
of it,” Jack observed. Charlie’s expression was 
far from hopeful, as he remarked: 

“Perhaps it’s not quite done. Let’s taste it.” 
He did so. “Why, it’s not so very bad. Perhaps 
another hour’s cooking will make it better. But I’ll 
tell you what, I believe it would do very well in 
soup, as it’s rather like gelatine.” 

Jack also took a taste, and said : 

“ Perhaps it will be better when it’s cold.” 

But neither cold nor hot was it very toothsome. 
After some deliberation, it was decided to gather 
a small supply of the moss as an emergency ration, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


249 

in case anything happened to the spatterdock 
roots. Some starchy food would be necessary, 
and this was better than nothing. With meat it 
would be passable. After supper, by the light 
of the fire, the boys tried steaming the strips of 
wood, and were surprised to find how well their 
plan worked. The hot moss was kept wet and 
the wood soon became quite pliable, and was 
easily bent to the approximate shape when it was 
securely fastened and left to dry. 

“Now we must get a caribou and use its skin 
for the webbing/’ Charlie said, as he put a fresh 
log on the fire and turned in. 

“It will be rather a difficult job, I’m thinking,” 
Jack replied, “and the results will not be very 
beautiful. I suppose we’ll have first to dry the 
skin tight and then cut the thin strips and soak 
them.” 

“That’s all right, Jack, but we must first soak 
the skin and rub it with ashes, I believe, to get 
the hair off. We’ll have a hunt for caribou to-mor- 
row if the weather is decent.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THEY GO CARIBOU HUNTING-SEE A GREAT STAG 
FIGHT— ARE ATTACKED BY ONE OF THE FIGHTING 
STAGS— HAVE NARROW ESCAPE— GET A CARIBOU AND 
USE THE SKIN FOR SNOW-SHOES— THE FIRST SNOW 
COMES, ALSO THE MIGRATION OF CARIBOU 

T HE morning was fairly fine, and the boys 
started off with their bows and arrows 
toward First Stag Barren. On arriving 
there they saw one small caribou at the farther 
end, and decided to stalk it, as the wind was in 
the right direction. It was, of course, necessary 
to keep out of sight, so they skirted the edge of 
the barren, keeping among the fringe of stunted 
trees. They had not gone far before a strange 
snorting sound was heard. It appeared to come 
from a dense clump of trees directly ahead and not 
very far away. What it was the boys could not 
guess. Again the loud snort, followed almost im- 
mediately by another very similar one from a differ- 
ent direction. 

“What can it be?” said Jack, in a hushed voice. 
Charlie replied in a whisper: “I haven’t the 
slightest idea. Do you suppose they are lynx or 
bear?” 

250 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


251 


Scarcely had he said the last word, when a large 
caribou stag came crashing past without seeing 
them. His heavy antlered head was thrown back, 
his nostrils dilated, and his eyes gleaming. On he 
went toward the dense belt of trees ahead, and the 
boys silently followed through the opening in the 
trees through which the stag had disappeared. 
Peering cautiously between the screen of branches, 
they saw a wonderful sight. 

Not fifteen yards in front of them stood the stag, 
staring at another and still larger one that was 
standing near three does on the farther side of the 
small tree-enclosed barren. For several minutes no 
animal made a move, and the boys had a good op- 
portunity to examine and compare the heads of 
the two superb creatures. The nearer and smaller 
one had heavy, compact, closely branched antlers, 
which were of the most brilliant orange colour. 
The other stag was a larger animal and had im- 
mensely long horns with very massive brow antlers, 
but otherwise the horns were inclined to be 
straggly. It seemed as though the two stags 
were mounted specimens, so still did they stand, 
while the does, after making a careful examina- 
tion, began feeding with absolute indifference to 
what might be going to happen. 

Suddenly, when the boys were beginning to grow 
impatient, the nearer stag made a move as though 


ADVENTURES IN 


252 

he were going over to the does, and instantly the 
big fellow lowered his head and came forward at a 
quick trot. What happened after that is difficult 
to say. All that the boys knew was that the two 
stags met with a mighty crash and commenced 
such a fight as is seldom seen. Backward and 
forward they forced one another, striking and 
parrying with lightning speed. Occasionally a 
body blow would be struck, and blood stained 
their heavy white necks. The ground was plowed 
up in a large circle, as though a shell had ex- 
ploded. Needless to say, the boys grew more 
and more excited. They even came out in the 
open that they might see more clearly, and the 
fighting stags took not the slightest notice of them. 

The does looked up occasionally, but were not 
interested in anything so much as feeding. For a 
long time the great fight continued, and the 
younger stag was, if anything, getting the better of 
it. Twice he had forced the larger one down, but 
was not able to keep him there. Several times 
their horns got firmly locked for a few minutes, 
but the frantic efforts of their owners disengaged 
them. Both animals were getting weary; they 
foamed at the mouth and their eyes seemed to be 
bulging out of their sockets. The boys wondered 
whether it was to be a fight to the death. Ap- 
parently so, for the older creature was evidently 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


253 

getting more than he could stand, and yet would 
not give in. Now and then he tried to turn and 
run away, but it only made matters worse, and 
before he could turn he received frightful punish- 
ment. At last, he stumbled and fell, when the 
younger stag struck him with such terrific force 
that he could not rise. Seeing this, the boys 
rushed forward in the hope of saving the game old 
warrior’s life, but the victor, mad with the lust of 
battle, turned on them without a moment’s hesi- 
tation. It was an awful moment, and the boys 
scarcely knew what to do. By good luck, they 
each decided to go in a different direction, and 
the stag for the moment stopped, as though not 
knowing which one to pursue. That brief moment 
meant everything to the fleeing boys. Over the 
soft spongy moss they went, as though they had 
wings. The stag soon made up his mind which to 
follow and rushed after Jack at full speed, scatter- 
ing moss high in the air as he went. Jack, seeing 
the danger, went straight for a partly dead juniper, 
and with wonderful agility swung himself up on to 
one of the branches. Not a second too soon, for 
the stag crashed with full weight against the tree, 
which shook with the impact. It was a close 
shave, but Jack was safe, and he called out to 
Charlie: 

“The beast won’t let me down. Get into a 


ADVENTURES IN 


254 

safe place and try shooting him; but be jolly care- 
ful he doesn’t see you unless you’re up a tree; and 
by the way, don’t shoot me by mistake.” 

Charlie had stopped close to the woods as soon 
as he saw that he was not being pursued, and now 
he drew his bow and arrow and commenced a care- 
ful approach toward the infuriated stag, which 
continued to strike the hard tree trunk with all 
his force. Selecting a large tree, Charlie stood 
behind it and, at a distance of about twenty-five 
yards, opened fire. He was too excited to shoot 
straight. Five arrows went wide and then one 
struck the stag in the flank. The sting made him 
more mad than ever, and he flew at the tree with 
renewed vigour, shaking it so much that Jack was 
afraid he would be thrown out. 

Unfortunately, in running he had dropped his 
bow, so could not fire a shot. Again an arrow 
struck the stag, and this time he turned round and 
caught sight of Charlie. Instantly he left the tree 
and headed for him at full tilt, and Charlie had 
barely time to swing himself clear of the ground. 
As he did so, his quiver turned upside down and all 
the arrows fell out. He had his bow and no arrows, 
while Jack had arrows and no bow, and they both 
laughed across to each other at the strangeness of 
their predicament, while the stag rushed first at 
one and then at the other in ungovernable rage. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


2 55 

For some time this continued, but finally the pain 
from the arrows in his flank, and the wounds re- 
ceived in battle, began to tell on him, and he grew 
very weary and finally walked away, a thoroughly 
dejected conqueror. In the meantime, the does 
for whom all the fighting had taken place were 
nowhere to be seen. They had quietly vanished 
at the sight of human beings. The two boys came 
down from their trees, and after picking up their 
weapons, went over to the old stag. He was 
quite dead. A great gash in the neck had cut an 
artery and he had bled to death, vanquished by 
the younger animal. 

“Poor old beast, he certainly put up a great 
fight and died game,” said Charlie, looking down 
with a feeling of compassion and admiration at 
the great stag. “A grand old warrior. Til bet 
it was not his first battle. But Tm awfully glad 
we were here to see the fight. Wasn’t it exciting? 
Just as well for us that those trees were handy, for 
that other chap would have given us a lively 
time.” 

“Did you ever know anything worse for sprint- 
ing on than this bog?” asked Jack. “It’s like 
those dreams one often has when one’s feet keep 
moving without going ahead. A regular night- 
mare! and that snorting stag got over it as easily 
as possible. Pity we haven’t got large spreading 


ADVENTURES IN 


256 

feet like he has; they’re regular snow-shoes. Well, 
we’ve got the skin we came for, though scarcely in 
the way we expected to get it. Now let’s get 
busy and peel it off*.” 

As the boys were removing the skin, Charlie 
remarked on its great thickness. 

“I really think a young caribou would have 
given us more what we want. This hide is fright- 
fully thick, and I’m almost afraid it will not do for 
snow-shoes,” and then after a moment’s thought 
he added: “but I have an idea. You see how the 
skin is formed at the joints of the hind legs ? Why 
wouldn’t it be well to strip the skin off, sew up the 
lower ends, and then you would have a regular pair 
of moccasins, they would be fine in snow by using 
two pairs one inside the other. You could have 
the hair against your feet and hair outside. What 
do you think of the idea?” 

“Splendid! And this big stag will give a fine 
pair. By the way, what a beastly smell this beast 
has, and do you notice how peculiar the meat looks. 
It’s all puffed and unnatural. I don’t believe it’s 
fit to eat.” 

“Nor do I,” Charlie agreed; “but what a shame 
to waste it, for there is such a lot. However, 
it’s no use carting it all the way to camp if we 
cannot eat it.” 

“Why not take a small piece back with us and 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


257 

bury the rest under some moss. We must save 
all the sinew and gut, as it will come in useful.” 

The large skin was at last removed, and in it 
were placed a piece of meat, and the sinews and 
other parts. This was rolled up and the boys 
started homeward. They had scarcely emerged 
from the small barren when they saw three does 
feeding near by. One of them had unusually 
large horns, which surprised the boys, who had not 
realized that caribou does are. more often than 
not, furnished with horns. 

“ Let’s have a try for one of the smaller ones,” 
whispered Jack with his usual hunter’s instinct. 
“Then we can get some better skin for the snow- 
shoes, as well as some good meat.” 

The suggestion was sound, and they dropped 
their load of skin and, commenced stalking the un- 
suspecting trio. There was no difficulty in getting 
within twenty yards of them without being seen. 

“Why can’t we try for both the smaller ones?” 
Jack asked. 

“No, I think we are more sure if we both try for 
the same one,” Charlie replied who always hated 
the idea of letting an animal get away wounded. 

“It’s too good a chance to miss; here, you take 
the one on your side and I’ll tackle the other,” 
argued Jack and as Charlie agreed he added. 
“Now say when you are ready.” 


ADVENTURES IN 


258 

As the signal was given both arrows were re- 
leased and both animals were hit, but neither 
appeared any the worse. They were surprised 
and looked about them to see where the danger 
came from. The boys remained motionless, and 
were not seen. Watching for a favourable oppor- 
tunity, they both reloaded and fired. Jack 
missed clean, but Charlie made a good shot, 
though without any visible result, except that the 
three animals trotted off across the barren, appar- 
ently none the worse. 

“I guess you were right, Charlie; if we had con- 
centrated our fire we’d probably have got one, and 
now we have nothing.” 

“Let’s follow them, anyhow!” Charlie replied. 
“I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them dropped 
before long.” 

So they picked up their loads and followed the 
caribou. On reaching the woods at the other side 
of the barren, the task of following the tracks 
became more and more difficult. For several 
hours they succeeded in keeping to them, then they 
noticed that one animal turned aside while the 
other kept on. 

“Looks to me,” said Jack, “as though this one 
was wounded and not able to stick the pace. I 
vote we follow it.” 

They did so, and, after half an hour of very 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


259 

cautious going, came to the animal standing near 
some small trees. In order to make sure of their 
shots, the boys crawled up to within ten yards and 
from behind the cover of a clump of bushes fired, 
and the caribou dropped where it stood. It was 
skinned immediately, and the two boys set off for 
camp laden down with the two skins and as much 
meat as they could carry, meaning to return the 
following day for the rest. They had wandered 
farther than either had realized, and it was with 
considerable difficulty that they finally found 
their way to camp, arriving after dark. A very 
tired pair they were, yet happy at the results of 
the day’s work. It had been exciting and very 
successful. Before turning in, the smaller skin 
was smeared over on the hair side with wood ashes 
and put into a puddle of water to soak until the 
hair would slip. The next day, the boys slept 
late, as they had been thoroughly tired. For 
breakfast they tried a piece of the old stag but 
found the meat uneatable. 

“We can learn one lesson from this,” said 
Charlie, as he threw the foul-tasting meat away, 
“and that is to leave the old stags alone during 
this time of the year at any rate. It seems to 
me that I can remember Andrew saying something 
about the stag being uneatable during the mating 
season, don’t you?” 


26 o 


ADVENTURES IN 


“Yes, and I remember Mr. Pratt saying that 
it was one of the things about caribou shooting 
that he so thoroughly disliked. Most of the 
shooting is done at about this season, and that the 
killing of the stags was done simply for the horns, 
and the meat was wasted. We had a long talk 
about it, and everyone agreed that the best sort 
of sport was when the need, for food was the 
chief object of the hunt and the trophy was only a 
secondary object, though most interesting to keep, 
just as the Indians kept bears’ claws to show as 
evidence of their skill.” 

“Well,” laughed Charlie, “no one will dare to 
question our sport, for food seems to be very much 
our reason for shooting. We can’t be accused of 
useless destruction, as we don’t waste much, do 
we?” 

“We certainly don’t, and I arn jolly glad it was 
not either of us who killed the big stag. When 
the migration comes, we must be careful to pick 
out only the young stags and the does that have 
no fawns if we can.” 

After breakfast, an hour or two was devoted 
to thoroughly cleansing the gut they had brought 
and stretching the big skin. Then they went back 
to the barren and tried to find the remains of 
the second caribou; but though they searched for 
a long time they could not find it, and in the end 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 261 

they gave up the search and went to Blueberry 
Bog for more fruit. During the next four days 
the boys did various odd jobs, including making 
two fine new bows which were strung with well- 
twisted gut. The skin for the snow-shoe web- 
bing was scraped clean of hair and stretched 
tight to dry. A lot of blueberries were dried, 
and more salt was made. Then three days were 
devoted to gathering firewood and stacking up 
in the shelter all that had previously been col- 
lected. The shelter also was enlarged to protect 
the increased supply. A couple of evening visits 
were paid to the beaver ponds, and the animals 
were seen busily at work preparing for the cold 
weather which was soon to come. 

On the thirteenth day of October, the morning 
broke with a dark, lead-coloured sky. No clouds 
were visible and the air was very still. Toward 
noon large flakes of snow fell softly on the ground. 
More and more thickly they came, and the boys 
realized that winter was at last coming, and 
congratulated themselves on having made all their 
preparations so thoroughly. 

“I don’t think we shall have much to fear/' 
said Charlie, as he watched the country receiving 
its mantle of white. “This snow ought to start 
the migration, and if it does we shall have our 
hands full getting our winter’s meat. Jack, I 


262 


ADVENTURES IN 


wonder how many caribou we shall need. We 
don’t want to kill more than is necessary.” 

Jack thought a moment, then replied: “It’s a 
jolly hard thing to calculate, but I should think a 
small caribou would last us about eight or 
ten days, say a little more than three per month. 
Allowing for seven or eight months, with what we 
already have, twenty-five ought to do. It’s better 
to have a few too many than to run the risk of 
going short, for, after all, the meat is our chief 
food and during the cold weather our appetites 
will be larger than they are now. Won’t we be 
sick of the very name of caribou meat before 
next spring?” 

“We will; but remember, we can catch a few 
hares and perhaps some ptarmigan, and then we 
have all these smoked salmon; so I expect we shall 
get along very well. I do wish, however, that we 
had some flour and baking powder so that we 
could make slapjacks.” 

As there seemed to be no chance of the snow 
stopping for many hours, the afternoon was 
spent in cutting up the hairless caribou skin into 
long and very thin strips. These were soaked 
in water, and, as soon as they were thoroughly 
pliable, the making of the snow-shoes began. 
Neither of the boys could remember very clearly 
what were the details of a proper snow-shoe, but 



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BEAVER STREAM CAMP 263 

after many mistakes and a great deal of trouble, 
they succeeded in making a couple of pairs that, 
though crude, were still more or less serviceable, 
and would answer well enough until some better 
ones could be made. 

The next morning was such as one reads of but 
seldom sees. The ground was covered with several 
inches of spotless snow, on which a clear cold sun 
shone with sparkling brilliancy. It had stopped 
snowing during the night and a sharp frost had fol- 
lowed. The boys were delighted and started im- 
mediately after breakfast to see whether the migra- 
tion had begun. The walking over the rough ground 
was somewhat hard, but the keen, bracing air made 
up for it, and they covered the distance at a fair 
speed. On arriving at Look-out Hill they decided 
to station themselves for a time on the next peak 
farther inland, which they named Caribou Hill. 
From this the leads for many miles could be 
clearly seen. But no caribou were visible. After 
waiting an hour or more, Jack suggested that 
one should go after ptarmigan while the other 
kept watch. That seemed a good idea, so they 
drew lots and Jack went. He had been gone 
about an hour and a half and had killed four 
birds, when three long whistles sounded in the 
still air and the hills sent the echoes back and 
forth. 


ADVENTURES IN 


264 

This was the signal agreed upon, so Jack made 
all speed to the hill, where he found Charlie very 
much excited. A long line of perhaps forty cari- 
bou were moving at a fast walk along one of 
the leads that came past the ice-house. They 
were a long way off, so the boys had plenty of 
time to reach the lead and select a suitable hid- 
ing-place. The wait seemed very long and they 
were getting chilled through, when round a spur 
of the hill about two hundred yards away a 
caribou appeared, followed immediately by 
another and still others. The leading one was a 
large hornless doe, and she came along cautiously, 
looking about, to see that the road was safe. 
Suddenly she stopped and sniffed the snow, and 
the whole herd of some twenty or more stopped 
also and awaited the signal to advance. It 
did not come. The doe did not like the scent she 
had found and she turned sharply and trotted off 
down the hill, taking the herd with her. The 
boys were greatly disappointed and at first could 
not understand the reason. Then Charlie re- 
marked: 

“What silly asses we are! Don’t you see, we 
crossed the lead at the place she stopped and 
then came up here instead of going farther down, 
so that she found our trail and that gave the 
show away. Why on earth didn’t we think of 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP a { 265 

that before? Now we have lost a fine chance 
just through our stupidity/’ 

“We are a pair of idiots!” Jack replied. “I 
suppose we were so excited that we didn’t think 
until it was too late. Now don’t you think we 
had better go farther down and keep well on this 
side?” 

This they did at once and selected a place near 
the spur of the hill. At this point two good 
trails came together, so they had a double chance. 
While they were watching, Jack said : 

“Has it occurred to you that the herd that 
came here was not the same one that we saw from 
the hill? It wasn’t half the size. I wonder where 
the other lot went?” 

Scarcely had he said this than in the still air 
came the sound of clicking hoofs. The boys did 
not know what it was, but waited anxiously as the 
sound came nearer. In a few minutes a large 
herd of caribou were seen approaching, led as 
before by a doe, for this is the almost inevitable 
rule with the Newfoundland caribou. In the 
middle of the long line of silver-coated animals 
were two large stags with great spreading antlers 
shining brightly in the cold sunlight. It was a 
grand sight, and the boys trembled with keen 
excitement as they watched the herd come nearer 
and nearer. Soon the leading doe was abreast 


266 


ADVENTURES IN 


of them, and she passed entirely unsuspicious, 
and the others followed her blindly, full of con- 
fidence in the leadership. The boys had their 
arrows ready, and waited only until two suitable 
animals were near them. At last a small stag and 
a very fat doe came along and both arrows were 
loosed. The distance was only ten or twelve 
yards, so they could not miss, but neither shot was 
immediately fatal. 

The sound of the flying arrows frightened the 
herd and they bolted in every direction, some going 
nearly a hundred yards. Then they stopped and 
looked about as though not quite sure what next to 
do. One of the Wounded animals was now within 
twenty yards of the boys, and they both fired again, 
and had the satisfaction of seeing the caribou run a 
few yards and drop dead. This caused the others 
to make another wild dash, and one came very 
close to the boys, who quickly took advantage of 
the chance and fired. The animal was struck 
but rushed away as though unhurt. Then fool- 
ishly they moved, and were instantly seen. At 
the same moment one of the animals that had 
gone down wind got the scent and gave the signal 
of alarm, and the whole herd, including the two 
that were wounded, galloped off. As the boys 
watched them getting farther and farther away, 
they saw one animal drop behind and then fall 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 267 

down and remain absolutely still. They were 
greatly rejoiced at this, as they hated to see a 
wounded creature go away to die. 

“Come along now, Jack, and we’ll get this one 
skinned and put the meat away, and then go down 
to the other.” 

They were quite expert by now in skinning, 
and the work was done in a very short time. Then 
the meat was carried up to the ice-house and put 
safely under the ice. This much done, they were 
getting the skin rolled up with the marrow, bones, 
and liver, when a loud snort made them jump. 
Five caribou had come along the lead and had 
approached to within forty yards before seeing 
the boys. The surprise was mutual, but the cari- 
bou, not having got the scent, did not recognize 
the human beings and stood staring in an unde- 
cided way. 

“Let’s have a shot,” said Jack; “it’s rather far 
but worth trying.” 

So they both fired. One shot missed altogether, 
and the other struck the flank of one of the ani- 
mals, but, owing to the thickness of the hair, did 
not penetrate. Curiously enough, even this did 
not frighten them away and the boys fired again, 
but with no better results except that one arrow 
went in and was carried away by the animal, for 
by this time they had decided to move off. 


268 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


"It’s really not worth while shooting at long 
range/’ said Jack. “We only lose our arrows. 
The hair of these animals is getting so very thick 
that the arrows won’t go in, except at close quar- 
» ters.” 

Having picked up the arrows, they walked over 
to the caribou that had fallen. This was quickly 
skinned and cut up; half was taken up to the ice- 
house and the other half made into a convenient 
load to be carried home. As they were about to 
start, they caught sight of an object lying on the 
snow about three hundred yards away which 
looked very much like a dead caribou. On the 
chance that.it might be the other wounded beast, 
they made their way toward it, and sure enough 
there it was, with the arrow still in its side. They 
had done well with this herd, having secured no 
less than three. It was too late to skin this one, 
so they cleaned it and, after throwing some boughs 
over it, left it till the next day. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THEY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE CARIBOU MIGRATION 
TO SECURE THEIR WINTER’S SUPPLY OF MEAT— BAD 
WEATHER SETS IN— THEY MAKE CARIBOU SKIN CLOTH- 
ING AND BETTER SNOW-SHOES— SEE MANY ANIMAL 
TRACKS IN THE SNOW— FIND THAT SOME ANIMALS AND 
PTARMIGAN HAVE TURNED WHITE TO MATCH THE 
SNOW— THEY SET SNARES FOR LYNX AND CATCH ONE- 
HAVE SERIOUS ENCOUNTER WITH IT— A BLIZZARD— 
THE AURORA BOREALIS— THEY MAKE FURNITURE— 
CHRISTMAS COMES AND THEY SURPRISE EACH OTHER- 
HAVE ELABORATE CHRISTMAS DINNER 


T HE boys had a very busy week, for the 
migration was on at full strength. Some 
days as many as five hundred caribou 
passed within sight of their hiding-places. Most 
of them usually went by between eight o’clock in 
the morning and two in the afternoon. Never 
had the boys worked so hard. As soon as the 
main run for the day had gone, the animals that 
had been shot had to be skinned and cut up. For 
the present, nearly all the meat was put in the ice- 
house, only the skins and a small quantity of meat 
to be smoked was taken to the camp. 

It was soon discovered that a lead was made 
useless after an animal had been killed near it, so 
fresh positions very frequently had to be taken, it 

269 


ADVENTURES IN 


270 

was also necessary that great attention be paid to 
the direction of the wind, as it was important that 
the herds should pass to windward. 

At the end of the week, twenty-one caribou had 
been secured, so the boys were assured of their 
meat supply for many months to come. The 
weather had been perfect, cold and generally clear, 
with occasional snows, and these came usually at 
night. Everything seemed to have favoured the 
boys, and fortunately they had taken every possi- 
ble advantage of the conditions, as the weather 
changed at the end of the week. 

A terrific storm of rain, snow, and biting wind 
kept them confined to their camp for three long 
days. During this time they moved into the hut, 
and a great success it proved; with the exception 
of having no windows there was no fault to be 
found with it. The fireplace worked well and the 
roof was perfectly tight. For a door they had 
stretched a caribou skin on a wooden frame; the 
hair was all scraped off and a little grease rubbed 
in so that as it dried it was almost like parchment 
and allowed a certain amount of light to get 
through. The making of windows was one thing 
that had been entirely overlooked in the building 
plan, so two openings were cut through the walls, 
high up where they were thinnest, and these were 
filled with pieces of rawhide scraped very thin and 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


271 

treated with a little grease and stretched over 
wooden frames. The result was fairly satisfac- 
tory and a great improvement. 

Experiments were made with the acorns which 
they had collected. A few were roasted and ground 
fine by pounding between stones. With this rich 
brown powder a very fair imitation of coffee was 
made. Of course, it needed milk and sugar, but 
nevertheless the hot drink was most acceptable. 

The boys amused themselves during the hours 
of enforced confinement making birch-bark cups 
and wooden spoons and forks; so between one 
thing and another the time passed and on the 
fourth day, all traces of the storm were gone, 
except on the higher hills, which were still covered 
with snow. After gathering some fresh boughs for 
bedding, the boys went down to the sea, rebuilt 
their smoke beacon, and brought back some salt 
water to keep up the supply of salt. Then a trip 
to the hills to see if the migration of caribou had 
entirely passed. Judging from the condition of 
the leads, a great many had gone by, but with the 
exception of three or four stragglers, they saw none. 
A few ptarmigan were secured and some more or 
less frozen blueberries, which, though soft and 
somewhat lacking in sweetness, were good enough 
for present use. The day was still young when 
they crossed the river near the clam bed, and not- 


ADVENTURES IN 


272 

withstanding the coldness of the water they de- 
cided to have a try for pearls. The results were 
only fairly satisfactory, for no really large ones 
were found. 

The following day, as there was nothing very 
important to do, they came straight to the river, 
bringing some lighted punk with which a huge 
fire was soon made, and then they devoted the 
whole of the day to pearl hunting. The supply 
of clams was pretty well exhausted by the time 
they had finished gathering them, so this would 
apparently be the last serious attempt they could 
make in that part of the river, at any rate. The 
total day’s work yielded a fine lot of pearls, in- 
cluding a few very large ones. On the way back 
to camp several places were tried, but though the 
clams were fairly abundant, they contained only a 
very few pearls and they were both small and 
imperfect, quite different from those found near 
the white sand. 

During the next three weeks the boys were kept 
indoors a great deal owing to the severity of the 
weather. At first it rained nearly every day, and 
the rain froze on the trees and grasses. The 
effect was beautiful, but far from pleasant. Then 
the snow began in earnest, and the country was 
almost completely covered. Sometimes it froze 
and sometimes there would be a [thaw, and the 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


273 

snow was turned into slush. Nothing could have 
been worse, and the time hung heavily on the 
boys’ hands. To occupy themselves they made 
clothes of caribou skin. This work caused them 
the greatest amusement. It can be readily im- 
agined that the fashions were strictly original, 
while the fit would scarcely have done credit to a 
“West End” tailor; but, nevertheless, though 
neither beautiful nor strictly conventional, they 
answered the purpose very well. Two suits were 
made for each, one of brain-tanned skin, with the 
hair-side in, and one somewhat larger of skin not 
tanned but rubbed soft at the joints. This had 
the hair-side out and was supposed to be more or 
less waterproof. Unfortunately, they found that 
the hair of most of the skins fell out or broke, but 
by selecting the earlier skins they succeeded in 
getting fair results, and the clothes if worn double 
were warm enough for even the coldest weather. 

Their footwear was of the same material, and 
though, like the clothes, the double skins were 
bulky, they answered well enough. Caps were 
made of hare skins, so the boys looked very 
quaint in their home-made attire. It greatly 
added to their size, and they looked very much 
like “woolly bears.” All the sewing was done 
with caribou sinews threaded through holes made 
with nails. It was exceedingly slow work and 


ADVENTURES IN 


274 

the distance between stitches very variable. What 
the boys would have done without caribou is hard 
to say. These animals furnished them with food 
and clothing and even building material, and the 
skins made the best of beds. The bear skin was 
perhaps a trifle more comfortable to sleep on, so 
each boy took turn in using it for a week at a time, 
but the caribou skins were made into bags and 
were very warm. There was one thing which 
troubled the boys a good deal, that was the lack of 
soap. During the summer it was well enough. 
They could use plenty of water and sand, but now 
that the weather was cold, water had not much 
attraction. They were discussing the question 
one evening when Jack said: 

‘‘I wonder if we could soften the water with 
wood ashes ?” 

“Of course we could,” Charlie replied; “but 
the lye would make our skin smart, I expect, es- 
pecially if it were at all chapped. I wish we had 
kept the fat from that tuna, for I believe if it had 
been boiled with wood ashes we could have made 
some sort of soap.” 

“For that matter,” Jack answered, “why 
couldn’t we use some caribou or bear fat, it 
wouldn’t take much?” 

So they tried the experiment of boiling fat in 
wood-ash lye, and the result was encouraging, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


2 75 

not in appearance but in results, for it really made 
a sort of dirty-looking soft soap. Fat was too 
valuable to be used in any quantity for this pur- 
pose, and only a very little of the concoction was 
made. 

The middle of November had passed before the 
weather cleared. Then on the crusted snow the 
boys tried their snow-shoes. They were familiar 
with the use of them, having gone on many snow- 
shoe tramps in Vermont while staying with some 
relations. In those days they had used well-made 
shoes, light and properly balanced. Their own 
home-made attempts were decidedly heavy and 
dragged too much at the heels. This latter de- 
fect was remedied by cutting off a little of the 
wood, but the weight was a great handicap if they 
were to attempt any long marches; and that is’ 
what they looked forward to doing during the 
winter. It was decided, therefore, to make some 
new and much lighter ones. The making of them 
occupied two days and the results were most 
gratifying. 

One morning toward the end of November 
the snow was in perfect condition for a tramp so, 
armed with bows, arrows, and fire sticks, the boys 
started off* to explore the country beyond the ice- 
house, intending on their way back to bring some 
of the caribou meat if they had nothing else to 


276 ADVENTURES IN 

carry. With the new snow-shoes, walking was 
quite a pleasure, for the snow was firmly packed 
by the rain and wind of the past weeks and there 
was a fine soft top dressing which recorded the 
footsteps of everything that moved. 

The boys saw the lace-like tracks of mice, the 
large padded footprint of the hares, which always 
look as though the animal were going the wrong 
way. Here and there near the pools was the un- 
mistakable sign of the muskrat with the deep, wavy 
cut made by the trailing tail. Once, far up the 
river, they came to a large and curious track which 
neither of them could identify. The snow was 
pressed down in places, apparently by the animal’s 
body, for the short legs had sunk into the soft 
snow. This was an otter, but they did not know 
it. Several times they found the dog-like tracks 
of a fox, and once when they followed these tracks, 
they were led to the scene of a woodland tragedy 
and victory — tragedy for the poor hare and victory 
for the stealthy fox, for he had secured a good 
dinner. 

Weasel or ermine tracks were frequently found, 
and twice the little animals themselves were seen 
in their new white winter clothes. Up on the 
slopes of the hills ptarmigan were found. They, 
too, were snow-white and not quite so tame as 
earlier in the year. The boys, however, managed 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


2 77 

to shoot a few with arrows. These were used as 
the stones were hidden beneath the snow. Late in 
the afternoon they found three caribou on the 
edge of some woods, but it was time to be return- 
ing to camp so they left them undisturbed and 
made their way back, passing the ice-house from 
which they took a piece of meat. On their way 
back they had their first sight of a very large 
lynx. They both fired but missed it, as might 
have been expected, as the animal was fully forty 
yards away. 

“How I wish I could remember how a dead-fall 
is made so that we might trap him,” said Jack. 
“Do you suppose if we made a very large, strong 
snare it would work ? ” 

“It’s worth trying, I think, but I haven’t much 
faith, as these lynx are very strong,” Charlie re- 
plied. “Let’s make a couple to-night and set 
them to-morrow with a piece of caribou meat as 
bait.” 

So that night, as soon as they got back to camp, 
they made three strong snares, using rawhide for 
the thongs. Next morning they went out and set 
them under the shelter of an overhanging spruce 
branch, under which the meat was concealed. 
The three snares were arranged so that the boys 
thought the animal would have little chance of 
getting the meat without going into one of them. 


278 ADVENTURES IN 

They also set half a dozen snares for hares in 
runways. 

When they visited the traps the following morn- 
ing, the caribou meat was gone. They found a 
part of a hare in a snare; from the wing tracks in 
the snow they concluded an owl had stolen it. 
In one of the other snares was a dead hare which 
had not been touched. They cut this in halves 
and used the head and shoulders for bait. On 
examining the tracks made by the lynx, they saw 
that it had passed quite close to one of the snares 
and had come back the same way, so they clos v ed 
every approach to the meat with dead wood, 
leaving only two narrow ways, in one of which 
two snares were set and one in the other. This 
they thought would surely work. 

Early next day they went to see what the re- 
sults might be, and approached the place, filled 
with excitement. The sight which met their eyes 
showed that something had happened, for the snow 
was all broken with tracks and strewn with scraped 
bark; branches were torn off and the whole place 
showed evidence of a severe struggle. Two of 
the snares had vanished, so the boys followed the 
footprints and what looked like the trail of a 
branch dragged through the snow. For several 
hundred yards the tracks led through the woods, 
twisting about in a most erratic way. Here 



“Their presence infuriated the animal still more, and it made a 
sudden spring at Jack ” 























































' 

















































BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


279 

and there the animal had apparently sat down 
and tried to free itself from the branch, and once 
it had tried to crawl inside a hollow log, but with- 
out success. 

At last, in a very thick place in the woods, the 
lynx was found, and a very strange picture it 
presented : one snare was around its neck also hold- 
ing a fore foot, the other snare was tight round 
a hind leg. In its rage the animal had torn 
from the tree the branch to which the snare 
had been fastened. The whole thing was a 
remarkable tangle from which the lynx had 
tried to escape in vain, and the animal was 
the very picture of impotent rage as it lay there 
snarling and struggling. The common New- 
foundland name of Lucifer (properly Loup 
Cervier) seemed to lit it perfectly. As the boys 
approached to within a few yards, their presence 
infuriated the animal still more, and it made a 
sudden spring at Jack, who was taken by surprise, 
and before he realized what had happened, he 
felt the impact of the heavy body striking him 
with considerable force and the sharp claws tear- 
ing at his caribou skin clothes. 

Unfortunately he had put out his hands to ward 
off the attack, and the lynx seized one with its 
sharp teeth. Luckily the weight of the branch 
had handicapped the creature in its spring, other- 


280 ADVENTURES IN 

wise the situation would have been far more ser- 
ious. As it was, it was bad enough, and Charlie, 
rushing to the rescue, scarcely knew what to do. 
At first, he seized the branch to which the snare 
was fastened and tried to drag the animal away, 
but Jack cried out: 

“Let go, let go, he’s pulling my hand to pieces.” 

So Charlie, being unable to strike for fear of 
hurting Jack, made a frantic grab at the lynx’s 
neck and closed his hands as tight as he could 
around its throat, hoping to strangle it. For 
some time this had no effect, but at last a gurgling 
sound showed that he was winning and the jaws 
relaxed their hold. At the same moment it 
started to tear at Charlie’s hand with its free 
hind leg. Not daring to let go, Charlie fell on the 
animal and with Jack’s help succeeded finally in 
killing it. Panting from the exertion, the boys 
surveyed their wounds. Both had suffered se- 
verely and the snow was stained with their blood. 
Taking up some clean snow, they carefully wiped 
their hands and were surprised to find how badly 
they had been scratched and torn. 

“Won’t it be nice if blood poison sets in?” 
said Jack. “That would be a fine ending to our 
adventures, wouldn’t it?” 

“What shall we do, Jack? I suppose a good 
washing with boiled water would be the best thing 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


281 


and we ought to do it soon. I say, did you ever 
see such a brute as that lynx? The wav he went 
for you was frightful, it was such a surprise. 
Jolly lucky he didn’t catch your face!” 

“Wasn’t it? You know, I never dreamed of 
his coming. How in the world he managed to 
spring so quickly with all that rubbish hanging 
to him is what puzzles me. It’s just as well he was 
fairly tired after the long walk and his efforts in 
trying to get clear. If he had been quite fresh, 
he’d have given us a jolly sight worse time of it, 
and it was quite bad enough as it was. I feel 
rather done up, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Charlie replied, “I do. Let’s take the 
brute along and get back to camp.” 

The boys were astonished at the animal’s 
weight. 

“I had no idea they were so heavy,” Jack said 
as he lifted it. “Why, I’ll bet it weighs nearly 
fifty pounds.” 

“I expect it does, and isn’t it a splendid skin? 
Surely it’s much darker than those mounted 
specimens we saw in the Adirondacks and it’s 
certainly very much larger. I vote we pull the 
skin off here. There’s no use in carting this 
weight all the way to camp.” 

So they rough skinned their hard-won prize and 
made their way back to camp, where, after thor- 


ADVENTURES IN 


28c 

oughly washing their wounds with boiled water, to 
which a little salt had been added, they took things 
easy for a while. Jack’s hand was very trouble- 
some the following day; it was badly swollen and 
much inflamed, and for a time it looked as though 
blood poison might set in. However, in three 
or four days it began to get better, and thanks to 
the boy’s healthy physical condition he was able 
to use it by the end of a week. 

“The next time we catch a lynx, I think we’ll 
know enough to keep at a respectful distance 
until it’s stone dead,” Jack remarked one day, as 
he lay watching Charlie cleaning the skin and get- 
ting it ready for brain tanning. 

During the first half of December the weather 
was fine and unusually mild so that most of the 
snow melted. The boys took advantage of the 
opportunity to add to their supply of fuel and 
to snare a number of hares. They also brought 
down some caribou meat from the ice-house. 
A few trips were made to the beaver ponds and 
several times the animals were seen at work, both 
cutting down trees and storing their winter’s 
supply of wood. The boys were greatly sur- 
prised at the size of these wood piles, also at the 
thorough coating of mud with which the lodges 
were plastered. 

Gradually the weather changed, the nights 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 283 

became bitterly cold, all ponds were frozen 
solid, and the streams and rivers were bordered 
with glistening ice. Frequent flurries of snow 
gave warning that winter, the real, relentless 
winter of the north, was near, and one morning 
the boys awoke to find a blizzard raging. The 
screeching wind carried the snow past with be- 
wildering speed, and the trees bent their heads 
and trembled; weak branches were torn away and 
hurled to the snow-covered ground. No sign of 
any living creature was to be seen, for nothing 
could live in the fury of the gale unless in the 
shelter of the thickest forest. The two looked out 
from the well-built hut and congratulated them- 
selves on being so comfortably housed, while they 
wondered what the country would be like when 
the storm ended. 

For three days and nights the wind took no 
rest. It banked the snow in deep drifts on the 
north side of the woods and carried it over the 
barrens to a depth of nearly three feet. Up in 
the hills the weather sides were blown almost 
bare, while every valley and rift was filled, and 
in many cases the inequalities of the ground 
were completely obliterated. Then at the end of 
the three days the storm spent itself, and a deadly 
calm prevailed. The sky was dark and cloudless, 
a sodden gray. The cold was intense, and the 


ADVENTURES IN 


284 

boys came forth on snow-shoes to find that their 
hut was almost hidden in the general whiteness. 
From the chimney rose a column of blue smoke 
which was the only moving thing, the only thing 
that showed a sign of life. The day was so gloomy 
and foreboding that the boys were glad to get 
back into the cozy, fire-lighted hut, for they feared 
that more snow was yet to come. 

Night came on almost unnoticed, for in the 
snow-covered land the night is luminous and never 
dark. Before turning in, Charlie took a look out 
of doors to see whether the expected snow had be- 
gun, and was surprised to find that the sky had 
cleared. Strange, uncanny lights danced in the 
heavens, shivering shafts of yellow and pink darted 
across in a bewildering way. At first Charlie could 
not understand what was happening, then suddenly 
he realized that it was the mysterious Aurora 
Borealis, so well named the Northern Lights, and 
he called Jack out to see the wonderful sight. 

For some days after this the boys contented 
themselves with work about the camp, making 
chairs out of saplings, with caribou skin seats, 
then a table of very primitive construction; they 
could not afford to use for furniture making 
the few nails that remained from the wreck of the 
launch so everything had to be fastened together 
with wooden pegs and rawhide thongs. Needless 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 285 

to say there were many failures in the work, but 
with patience and plenty of time at their disposal, 
the final results were quite satisfactory. The 
table was made of a framework of thin birch 
saplings properly braced; for the top a piece of 
rawhide was stretched over a support of strips of 
wood trimmed flat on the upper side. Wooden 
cups and plates were made to replace the frail 
bark utensils. 

All these jobs occupied the time, so that the 
days passed only too quickly. Jack realized 
one evening after consulting the tally stick that it 
was the 23rd of December. The next day would 
be Christmas Eve. Curiously enough, the same 
thought had come to Charlie, and he wondered 
how he could surprise Jack, while Jack in turn 
wondered how he could surprise Charlie. Neither 
mentioned the word Christmas, but both deter- 
mined to make the day noticeable. It had been 
the rule ever since they were wrecked that they 
should keep together as much as possible for fear 
of accidents, but the next morning Jack remarked 
that he would like to see the beaver houses and 
that he would be back soon. This suited Charlie 
very well, for he had been wondering how he 
would be able to get off* by himself, so he raised no 
objection to Jack’s going. 

“ How long will you be ? ” he asked. 


286 


ADVENTURES IN 


“Oh, I don’t know; but don’t worry about me, 
as I may find something to interest me and if so 
I’ll not hurry back. What are you going to do?” 

“I think I’ll take a walk around camp and see 
what’s happening,” Charlie replied. 

As soon as Jack was clear of camp he turned 
off the trail which led to the ponds and travelled 
as fast as he could over the deep snow for the 
ice-house, determined to get some ptarmigan out 
of storage for the Christmas dinner. On his way 
he had the good luck to shoot a fine hare. This 
gave him an idea. He would tan the skin and 
make a cap for Charlie as a Christmas present. 
So in order to save time, he skinned the animal 
there and then and worked the brains in as he 
walked along. By the time he reached the ice 
cave the skin was quite dry and soft. After 
selecting a couple of cold-storage ptarmigan, he 
headed back toward camp, but on the way he 
stopped in a sheltered nook, for the day was fine 
and the sun was shining with an attempt at 
warmth. He cut out the hare skin into the proper 
shape for a cap. In his pocket he had some bits 
of sinew which were always carried in case of 
emergency, and sitting on a bunch of fir branches 
he completed the cap. Hiding it carefully in his 
clothes, he continued his walk and reached camp 
before the sun had set. Charlie greeted him with: 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 287 

“By Jove, you must have found those beaver 
^lodges uncommonly interesting. Do you know, 
you’ve been away all day, and I was getting fright- 
fully worried; thought you’d got lost and I should 
become a new kind of Robinson Crusoe, a frozen 
one with no man Friday.” 

“Oh, I expect you thought I had followed the 
example of that chap in Hiawatha, what was his 
name? Pau-Puk-Keewis, wasn’t it? — and gone to 
dwell with Ahmeek in the beaver lodges. Well, 
to tell the truth, I changed my mind after starting 
and took a walk up toward the hills, and on my 
way shot this hare, which will taste pretty good, 
I’m thinking. By the way, is grub nearly ready? 
I’m famished.” 

“No, Jack, I’m sorry it is not, for I, too, went 
for a walk and have not been back long. Isn’t 
this snow fine! It’s a positive joy to travel over 
it. How do you find your snow-shoes work? 
Mine are splendid.” 

“So are mine, couldn’t be better; but come along 
and let’s get something to eat.” , 

Charlie had spent a very busy day. He had 
decided to make a very fine bow as a present for 
Jack and had worked hard to complete it. The 
result was highly satisfactory. Not only had 
he found an excellent piece of wood, but he had 
ornamented it with burnt work, so that it was 


288 


ADVENTURES IN 


really quite handsome. He had also gathered 
greens with which he proposed to decorate the 
hut. These were hidden under some skins so that 
Jack did not see them. After supper the boys 
turned in, and as soon as Jack was sound asleep, 
Charlie crept out of his sleeping bag and, without 
making any noise, he hung the greens all about the 
hut with delightful effect. Then he made a 
Christmas card out of a piece of birch bark, on 
which he drew a picture with a red-hot nail. 
This he fastened to the bow and laid it near the 
fireplace. Much pleased with his efforts, he got 
back into his bed and was soon fast asleep. 

Early in the morning he was surprised by Jack, 
who awoke him shouting: 

“A Merry Christmas, Charlie, old man.” In 
the dim light Jack had not noticed the decorated 
hut, so Charlie after returning the greeting re- 
marked that he was greatly astonished to know 
that it was really Christmas. Then he got up and 
threw some bark on the fire and lighted up the hut. 
Jack rubbed his eyes in bewilderment as he looked 
about and saw the hut’s transformation. 

“You rascal! when in the world did you do all 
that?” he cried; “and what’s this?” (as he took up 
the well-made bow and the card.) “Oh, I say, 
Charlie, this is good of you. It is a beauty!” 

Just then Charlie noticed on the table a package 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 289 

done up in bark and addressed to him in charcoal. 
It was the cap, and he was of course delighted 
with it. 

“Rather funny,” he said, “that we should both 
have remembered the day and said nothing about 
it. It’s been a regular double surprise. Wouldn’t 
the family be amused if they could see us.” 

“They surely would. I Say, what shall we have 
for our Christmas dinner. I brought a couple of 
ptarmigan down yesterday, so they’ll do for the 
turkey, and we can have a bit of salmon, and 
for sweets we can open one of the emergency 
rations tins and get some chocolate and biscuits. 
We must make the best attempt we can at a 
spread.” 

During the morning the boys enjoyed a brisk 
walk over the firm snow to give themselves a good 
appetite, as they said; then about three o’clock 
preparations were made for dinner. A menu 
written on birch bark was made, as follows: 
Broiled smoked salmon; roast ptarmigan with 
roast spatterdock; nut chocolate and biscuits; 
blueberries; acorn coffee. The table was well 
decorated with greens, so that everything had quite 
an air of Christmas. The dinner proved a great 
success and the family health was drunk in the 
acorn coffee. 


CHAPTER XV 


THEY GO FOR A LONG TRIP INLAND— SEE A SILVER FOX;— 
GET CAUGHT IN A TERRIBLE BLIZZARD— FIND A TRAP- 
PER’S HUT IN WHICH IS THE SKELETON OF THE OWNER- 
GET SUPPLY OF FLOUR AND OTHER LUXURIES— FIND 
VALUABLE SKINS— THE BLIZZARD ENDS SO THEY 
MAKE THEIR WAY BACK TO BEAVER STREAM CAMP— 
THEY TRAP SILVER FOXES— SPRING COMES— THEY 
SEE YOUNG BEAVER— FIND WHERE THE GULLS HAVE 
NESTS— MAKE A BOAT AND COLLECT EGGS— ARE 
CAPSIZED IN POND-MAKE PREPARATIONS FOR AN- 
OTHER WINTER— MOVE CAMP TO COAST— A BIG STORM 


COMES 


HE following morning plans and arrange- 



ments were made for a trip up country; 


1 the snow was in perfect condition and the 
weather seemed favourable, so they decided to go 
for several days in order that they might explore 
the region more thoroughly than they had hitherto 
been able to do. The sleeping bags were made into 
packs and enough food was taken to last three or 
four days. Fire sticks and punk, and fragments 
from mice’s nests, as this makes the best tinder, 
bows and arrows, completed their equipment, and 
they started about ten o’clock. The idea was to 
go to the north of Look-out Hill, then swing round 
in a large circle to the south and back to the river 


290 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


291 

near the sandy reach. The first day’s tramp 
proved uneventful but nevertheless delightful. 

The dry, firm snow made walking easy; all ponds 
were frozen over and covered with deep snow, so 
that they were scarcely distinguishable from the dry 
land. In some of the ponds the travellers found 
beaver lodges; these were mere mounds of snow 
from which a slight film of steam arose through the 
chimneys. On tapping the sides a faint whining 
sound could be heard, as though puppies inhabited 
the well-built houses. Throughout the country 
there was very little sign of life. One lonely cari- 
bou was seen dressed in its winter suit of white, so 
that it was scarcely visible, a few hares, an ermine 
or weasel, half a dozen white ptarmigan, some 
Canada jays, a large white owl, and a couple of 
glossy black ravens were the only living things 
observed during the day. 

Toward evening camp was made. It was a 
simple affair consisting of a lean-to of boughs cov- 
ered with snow, a deep bed of boughs, and a roaring 
fire. In spite of the intense cold, the boys slept 
soundly, waking only when the fire burned low 
and had to be replenished with wood. The next 
morning, after a hot breakfast of toasted strips of 
venison, the journey was resumed. Their way 
took them over ranges of high hills from which 
splendid views of the country w T ere obtained. The 


292 


ADVENTURES IN 


views, though exceedingly beautiful, were very 
lonely. No sign of human habitation could be 
seen as far as the eye could reach. To the north 
and south and east it was hills and more hills, 
all snow-covered except where it had been blown 
away from smooth-faced rocks. Here and there a 
dark patch of woods crept up the valleys like an 
army trying to conquer the snowbound heights. 
To the west and southwest the land was undu- 
lating, barrens and woods being about evenly 
distributed, and farther off was the sea, cold and 
gray, with its fringe of waves spending themselves 
against the rocky coast. A short halt was made 
toward noon and some cold meat eaten. While 
they were resting Jack caught sight of a small ani- 
mal making its way over the snow. 

“What do you suppose that can be, Charlie? 
It looks almost like a dog.” 

Charlie examined it carefully for a few minutes, 
and then said: “It’s a fox, I believe; but what a 
queer colour, it looks quite black. Let’s get our 
bows ready, for it is evidently coming this way. 
Don’t move.” 

The boys crouched low, and their whitish cari- 
bou clothes made them look like anything but 
human beings. On came the fox, trotting slowly 
directly toward the silent, crouching figures. 
When it got to within thirty or forty yards it 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


293 

stopped, as though it had smelt some strange 
scent. While it stood still, with nose pointing 
to the wind, the boys fired. But the target was 
small and the arrows missed. The fox hearing 
the tang of the bowstring took one look at the 
boys, then turned and trotted away. 

“Do you realize that it was a silver fox,” said 
Charlie, “and worth perhaps hundreds and hun- 
dreds of dollars?” 

“Of course, I do,” Jack replied, “that’s why I 
missed. I was so excited, I couldn’t shoot straight. 
What a chance! and to think we both should have 
missed. If it had been some rotten old hare, we’d 
probably have hit it. Oh, well, never mind. 
Let’s go and see if we can find the arrows.” 

The finding of them was no easy task, as they 
were buried deep in the snow, but after some dig- 
ging they were finally recovered, and the journey 
continued in a southerly direction till evening, 
when camp was made in a thick patch of woods 
down in a narrow, sheltered valley. As the boys 
sat by the fire, they were much struck by the curi- 
ous effect in the sky. Around the pale moon was 
a double halo, one small and one very large, and 
coloured almost like a faded rainbow. The sky 
was covered with a thin film of drifting haze. 

“I believe that’s a sign of bad weather,” Jack 
remarked, as he looked at it. 


294 


ADVENTURES IN 


“ I wouldn’t be surprised at all,” Charlie re- 
plied. “There is a queer feeling in the air; and 
do you remember how the ravens croaked all this 
afternoon? By Jove, I hope we are not in for 
another blizzard. It would be awkward for us.” 

The air was strangely still. In the woods an 
owl called out in dismal, hollow tones his queer 
hoo-hoo-hoo-hooo , which sounded to the boys as 
though he was saying, “Who, who are you?” 
Farther away several other owls repeated the 
same question. From the bleak hills above came 
the distant barking of a fox, as though he, too, felt 
that things were not quite right. The boys felt 
nervous, and had a foreboding that trouble was 
coming. 

Toward midnight the moon was hidden by a 
cloud, and through the woods the slowly rising 
wind moaned dismally. Later fitful gusts changed 
the moans to shrieks, and the boys knew that a 
storm was coming, and coming soon. To return 
home was the only chance of escape, so they rose 
long before the first glint of daylight and cooked 
all their remaining meat. After eating a substan- 
tial meal they started northward, keeping on the 
western slopes of the hills where the walking was 
best. Scarcely had they started than fine, sharp 
snow began to blow past them and the cold became 
intense. Thicker and thicker came the white 



— — — - 






The birch bark menu 








BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


295 

storm, so that they could scarcely see which way to 
go, for the snow struck their faces with such force 
that they could not open their eyes. 

Hardly knowing which way they were going, 
they kept on, stumbling over snow-covered obsta- 
cles and lurching against each other, for they re- 
alized the importance of keeping very close to- 
gether. After several hours the strain began to tell 
on them and they stopped to rest in the compara- 
tive shelter of some woods. Here they were able 
to speak and be heard, so they discussed the situa- 
tion and it seemed very hopeless. To begin with, 
they could not know whether they were going 
toward camp, for the snow obliterated everything 
from sight; objects, except those more than a few 
yards away, were completely lost. Then the 
cold was terrible, and in spite of the thickness of 
their clothing the boys felt that they could not 
stand it very long. To light a fire, under the con- 
ditions, was almost if not quite impossible, as their 
hands would be numbed instantly if the heavy 
mits were removed. Fortunately, they had cooked 
enough food to keep them from starvation, but 
even food will not keep one alive without heat and 
rest, and of course rest for more than a few min- 
utes at a time was out of the question. Should 
the storm last several days, there would be very 
little chance of living through it unless they were 


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296 

lucky enough to strike camp, and that was scarcely 
likely. The only guide they had was the wind, 
and though by facing that they could rely on not 
going in small circles, they had no way of knowing 
whether the wind changed direction, as it might 
easily do. 

They decided to push along in the direction in 
which they believed the camp to be, and started 
again with their fur caps well pulled down to pro- 
tect their faces. On and on they went, getting 
more and more weary and miserable. Night came 
on and still they must keep moving. An occa- 
sional stop for a few minutes to munch a piece of 
frozen meat was all they dared allow themselves. 
Cold, sleepy, and exhausted, they dragged the 
heavy snow-shoes over the drifting snow until it 
seemed as though they could go no farther, and 
still they must go on. Each took his turn in 
breaking the way, and silently the leadership was 
exchanged as the strain for the one became too 
great. Had either one been alone, he would 
gladly have lain down to sleep and die in the soft 
snow, but so long as one moved the other must do 
the same. 

All night they fought to live, fought against 
the storm which increased in fury as the night 
wore on, until it seemed as though the wind 
had reached its utmost strength only to gather 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


297 

still greater power. The endurance of the two 
boys had its limits; halts were made with ever- 
increasing frequency, and with each halt the start 
became more and more difficult. Not a word was 
spoken. They dared not even look each other in 
the face for fear of showing the weakening of 
the spirit. Their very minds were numb with 
cold and pain, and yet they fought their way 
along, unwilling to give up hope so long as they 
could induce their legs to move. Daylight came 
at last, so gradually that it was scarcely noticed. 
For more than twenty-four hours had the two boys 
battled bravely against the terrible odds, and still 
no goal was in sight, no goal but Death, which 
stared them in the face. Progress became slower 
and slower, more painful and more laboured. 
Hope, which had kept them going so long, was 
nearly dead when they stopped to breathe and 
rest and try to eat on the sheltered side of a thick 
wood. 

They were leaning against the bent branches of 
a fir when suddenly Charlie grasped Jack's arm 
and pointed to an old “ blaze" on the side of a 
large spruce. It was the very first sign of a hu- 
man being they had seen on land since they had 
been thrown ashore nearly half a year ago. The 
blaze had been made by an axe. It was covered 
with dull yellow gum and the bark had grown over 


ADVENTURES IN 


298 

the edges, so that it was evidently several years 
old. What did it mean? Were they near a hu- 
man habitation after all, or had some wanderer left 
the sign for his own use and information? 

The sight gave new life to the boys, and they 
hurried forward as fast as the stiffness of their 
limbs would allow, to see whether perhaps there 
were other blazes. Soon they found another and 
yet another, and then, they could scarcely believe 
their eyes, a tiny log hut showed itself above the 
deepening snow. The roof as far as could be 
seen was somewhat dilapidated, but still it held 
together and covered the walls. 

With feverish excitement the boys made their 
way to the door; apparently it was fastened on the 
inside, but not very securely, for it broke open when 
they threw their weight against it. As their eyes 
became accustomed to the dim light a strange sight 
was disclosed. On a rude bed lay the remains of 
an old man partly covered with a mouse-eaten 
blanket. Only the skeleton occupied the rem- 
nants of the clothes, and the empty eye sockets 
stared at the astonished boys in a ghastly way. 
Near the bed was a rusty tin kettle and a cup, 
in which was the black dust of tea leaves, the old 
man’s last beverage. In one corner of the room 
was a pile of dry firewood; there were also two 
barrels, one of which was unopened. On a small, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


299 

rough shelf were several tins, whose labels were 
obliterated by rust. There were also a few steel 
traps, and from a rafter hung a bundle of furs. 
Beyond these things there were a few old cooking 
utensils, and near the’ wood lay what delighted 
the boys, an axe.' It was rusty and dull, but that 
soon could be remedied. In one corner they also 
found the remains of an old double-barrelled shot- 
gun, rusted beyond repair. For sometimethe boys 
gazed about the poorly-lighted hut without saying 
much. To be out of the clutches of the storm was 
a relief for which they were thankful, but to find 
themselves in the company of the dead was grue- 
some, and in their weakened condition it made a 
great impression. Tears came to Charlie’s eyes 
and he swallowed hard as he said in a low, sob- 
bing voice: 

“What shall we do? We can’t stay here with 
that,” pointing to the bed. Jack shivered as he 
replied : 

“Why not let us carry it out and lay it on the 
snow for the present? — then we can light a fire 
and get thawed out. I feel actually sick with 
cold and fatigue. Come on, let’s move it. Poor 
old chap, what a doleful end. Think of dying 
out here all alone, and no one to give him a thing 
at the end!” 

The two boys stood looking down at the pathetic 


ADVENTURES IN 


300 

mortal remains of the old trapper, and trying to 
muster their courage to take hold of it. An idea 
suddenly came to Charlie. 

“Do you remember, Jack, what Andrew told 
us of his two old cousins who went off for silver 
foxes, and how one was found dead in a river and 
no one knew what had become of the other? Til 
bet this is the poor old fellow. From the look of 
things, I should say he died of cold. The fire evi- 
dently burnt out and he could not get up to make it 
again.” 

“You’re right,” Jack replied. “But what an 
extraordinary thing that we should have come 
across him, and all on account of the blizzard. 
It only shows how things work out for the best 
even when we think everything is going wrong.” 

Feeling that they knew something about the 
unfortunate old man made it easier for them to 
undertake the task of carrying the remains out of 
the hut, which they at once proceeded to do. 
Then, with a sense of relief, they turned to the fire 
and were about to use their fire bow and stick 
when they noticed some old sulphur matches on 
the table. These apparently were none the worse 
for age, and one was soon struck. In a few min- 
utes the fire was roaring up the long disused and 
badly rusted chimney-pipe, and the boys were 
sitting in front of it enjoying the much-needed 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


301 


warmth. They did not realize how tired they 
were, and sleep came to them as they sat there. 

Not until the fire began to die down and the hut 
grow cold did they awake. More fuel was put on, 
and they opened up their sleeping bags and made 
themselves more or less comfortable, and soon 
drifted to the mists of dreamland, where skeletons 
and blizzards danced together without disturbing 
them. For several hours they were completely 
lost to the world, and then they awoke feeling 
refreshed, and mighty hungry. After eating some 
toasted venison they took a more careful look 
about the hut. In the opened barrel was the re- 
mainder of flour mixed with the remains of mice, 
which had got in and had been unable to get out 
again. The second barrel contained flour and 
seemed to be perfectly sound. They also found 
sugar, baking-powder, tea, salt, and matches. 
The bundle of skins contained twenty-seven foxes, 
twelve of which were silvers, several otter, ermine, 
and lynx. These having been hung from the ceil- 
ing had escaped the attacks of mice, and most 
of them were in good condition. 

“They are worth a small fortune,” said Jack, as 
he sorted them out. 

“Very well, you can have them, but I prefer 
the flour and sugar, to say nothing of the axe,” 
Charlie answered. “Do you realize we shall live 


ADVENTURES IN 


302 

in luxury now; and I’ll tell you what would be a 
good scheme. We'll try to trap some silver foxes. 
A little grease on these traps will put them in or- 
der, and we might get some valuable skins. Be- 
tween the skins and the pearls, we'll be quite rich 
when we leave here, and this lot of skins we’ll send 
to the old man's family. Won't they be sur- 
prised. These twelve alone ought to be worth 
two or three thousand dollars, and that's a lot up 
in this country." 

“Which country?" Jack asked, laughing. “Per- 
sonally, I don't think a million dollars is worth 
much up here; we certainly cannot spend it: 
but still, as these silver foxes seem to be fairly 
common here, I quite agree with you that we ought 
to try to catch some, so that if we ever get away 
we'll have them to sell." 

Evening came, with no sign of the blizzard end- 
ing. All night it continued its fury, and in the 
morning the boys found that the snow had piled 
up to the top of the door, and they had to dig 
an opening in order to see what the weather was 
doing. It was snowing a little and the wind was 
evidently dying down, so they made a passage out 
from the hut and had a look about. 

The sky was still dull gray, and the boys were 
not at all sure the storm had entirely passed so 
they decided to stay in the hut for the day and 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


303 

amused themselves with making slapjacks. As it 
was months since last they had tasted flour, except 
the few emergency biscuits, they were not over 
particular, and they smacked their lips over the 
cakes made of baking powder, flour, and sugar 
w r hich were badly fried in the very rusty frying- 
pan with a little venison grease. 

Several times during the day the storm re- 
newed its efforts, but finally toward evening the 
snow and the wind stopped. The dull gray sky 
broke, and through the rift a yellow sun shone 
upon the snow-bound land. It was a hopeful 
sign, and the boys went to sleep feeling sure 
that the morrow would be fine. They were not 
disappointed, for the day dawned with a clear, 
cloudless sky. So still was the air that not a leaf 
stirred. What a contrast to the preceding days of 
storm and tumult, when all the furies of Nature 
were let loose, and now absolute peace reigned. 
Not a sound disturbed the stillness except the 
occasional soft notes of some wandering chickadees 
or the cry of the Canada jay, who was busy search- 
ing for food in his store-houses among the trees. 
He must have blessed his foresight in having tucked 
away berries, meat, and other delicacies in the fold 
of the birch bark or among the gray moss which 
clung to the firs; otherwise he might have gone hun- 
gry, and hunger and cold do not go well together. 


ADVENTURES IN 


304 

The boys were confronted with the difficulty of 
finding their way back to camp and still leaving a 
trail so that they could return to the trapper’s 
hut. Fortunately they had the axe, and though 
it was rusted and blunt, they succeeded in sharp- 
ening it well enough to enable them to blaze the 
trees. Before leaving the hut they packed up 
some flour, matches, sugar, and baking powder, 
also the frying-pan and the bundle of dried skins, 
and with these they started. The very deep wind- 
packed snow made walking fairly easy, thanks to 
their snow-shoes. 

After getting clear of the woods, through which 
they blazed a trail as they went along, the coun- 
try appeared somewhat familiar, particularly the 
range of hills to their right. At the end of 
five hours of walking Look-out Hill was clearly 
seen, only a few miles away. They were de- 
lighted to find themselves so near home and were 
surprised to know that the trapper’s hut was 
really not more than about four hours’ direct walk 
from their camp, as, now that the river was frozen 
over, they could cross it at any point. On arriving 
at the camp, the hut was found to be almost com- 
pletely covered with snow which had drifted 
against the walls, so that only about a foot re- 
mained visible. After considerable difficulty a 
way into the door was cleared and another to 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


305 


the wood-shed, so that fuel could be secured, and 
a good fire soon took away the vault-like feeling 
of the house. 

During the evening the boys decided that they 
would move the following day over to the trap- 
per’s camp for a week or so and have a try at trap- 
ping silver foxes. It was only necessary to take 
a supply of meat and their sleeping bags; so im- 
mediately after breakfast they started and had 
no difficulty in finding the hut. As soon as a fire 
had been started, some boughs were collected for 
beds and a supply of wood cut. Then the traps 
were taken out and set in what seemed to be likely 
places, scraps of caribou being used for bait. 
From the number of tracks in the new snow there 
was every reason to expect good luck. The next 
morning the boys could scarcely wait to finish 
breakfast, so anxious were they to visit the line. 
Their delight may be easily understood when in the 
third trap a splendid silver fox was found. And 
this was only the beginning of their good fortune, 
for at the end of a month they had caught no less 
than eighteen foxes, eight of which were silvers. 
This seemed to exhaust the supply of the neigh- 
bourhood, for during the following two weeks they 
caught nothing and saw no fox tracks. 

During these weeks they had paid many visits to 
Beaver Stream Camp and had also taken some long 


ADVENTURES IN 


306 

walks over the hills. It was past the middle of 
February when they concluded to try a new place 
for trapping. In the course of one of their walks a 
valley was found which appeared to be a regular 
home for foxes, as the tracks were everywhere to 
be seen. This valley was not more than three 
miles from Look-out Hill, so the boys used their 
own camp as a base and visited the new line of 
traps every day or two. The results were fairly 
successful so far as numbers went, thirteen foxes 
being taken, but only two were silvers and four 
crosses, that is to say part silvers; also a fine lynx 
was caught. By the end of March the trapping 
was abandoned, as the weather was thoroughly 
bad and the walking very difficult. 

During April they found the time hang heavy on 
their hands, as they were confined to camp a great 
deal. They amused themselves making two suits 
of buckskin clothes and moccasins, to be used when 
the weather became warm. 

Signs of spring were becoming more and more evi- 
dent as the weeks passed. Heavy rains took the 
place of snow, though occasionally a snow storm 
would remind them that they were in the far north 
where spring comes late. The hares were seen to 
be losing their white coats and the ptarmigan were 
getting mottled in colour. With the thawing of the 
snow and ice the rivers became rushing torrents 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


307 

carrying the great masses of ice down with a deaf- 
ening roar, tearing trees away from the banks, and 
moving great boulders. The boys had never seen 
anything like it. With the coming of May most of 
the snow vanished, leaving irregular masses here 
and there, so that the country was a strange patch- 
work of colour and white. The higher hills still 
retained their covering of snow until the end of 
May, by which time all signs of winter had van- 
ished. Many birds were returning after their 
winter in the sunny south, and the whole land was 
filled with the promise of spring. 

One warm day, after the ground had thawed, a 
trip was made to the trapper’s hut for the pur- 
pose of burying the remains of the poor old man. 
A shallow grave was dug and a slab cut for a head- 
stone, with the simple inscription burnt into it: 

“Here lies an old trapper found by Charles 
Mason and Jack Sylvester in hut during winter 
and buried in June, 1915.” 

It was fortunate that the boys had laid in such 
good supplies of food, as the country furnished 
them with very little during this season. With 
the exception of hares and ptarmigan the only 
thing they could obtain was maple syrup, the 
collecting of which occupied much of their spare 
time. They had frequently seen it done at home, 
so they succeeded with little difficulty in tapping 


ADVENTURES IN 


308 

the trees and getting a fair amount of sap. This 
they boiled down to a thick syrup, which made a 
very welcome addition to their food and made the 
simple slapjacks taste better than ever. The sup- 
ply of blueberries was not yet exhausted, but they 
had lost much of their sweetness and were very 
soft. Those stored in the ice-house had not kept 
much better than the ones under water, which 
had a peculiar peaty flavour and would appar- 
ently not keep much longer, therefore the boys 
decided to boil some of the best berries with 
sugar, so as to have some fruit to keep them going. 
The acorn coffee was entirely finished, so was the 
smoked salmon. One tin of cooked bake apples 
still remained, and this was reboiled with some 
sugar in order to make it keep better. 

The caribou meat in the ice-house was in first-rate 
condition, and there was every reason to believe it 
would be fit for use as long as it lasted. The re- 
turning spring migration of the caribou was nearly 
passed. Unlike the autumn one, the animals come 
singly, in pairs, and occasionally small herds of 
stags. They travelled in a leisurely way, and were 
a hornless and ragged-looking lot. Their heavy 
whitish winter coat was falling in patches, giving 
way to the gray of summer. No longer were the 
animals sleek and fat. The long winter had not 
been a season of plenty as was evidenced by the 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


309 


conspicuous display of ribs. The boys, thinking it 
advisable to have some fresh smoked venison, shot 
a couple of the fattest they could find, and put all 
the meat in the smoke-house. 

“Let’s have a try for a trout,” said Jack one 
evening. “A taste of fresh fish would be a jolly 
good change, what do you say?” 

Charlie agreed, and they took some of their 
carefully kept flies and hooks and went down to the 
river. The trout were not at all interested in the 
flies, but quite appreciated the fat white grubs 
which the boys found in the bark of a dead tree. 
Enough were caught to furnish several meals, and 
the fresh fish were greatly relished. 

One day the boys walked up to the beaver 
ponds to see what was happening to the little 
engineers. They were somewhat surprised to 
see how much activity the pond presented. A 
number of ducks were playing about, a pair of 
large blue herons were searching for food along 
the edge of the water. On a grassy point of land 
were a whole family of young beaver and one old 
one enjoying a sun bath and romping about like 
a lot of kittens. Every once in a while the young- 
sters would make a dash for the water and play 
about in a most amusing way, pushing one another 
off logs or stones, and generally enjoying them- 
selves very thoroughly. The boys were so inter* 


3io 


ADVENTURES IN 


ested in the picture that they lay hidden behind a 
large fallen tree, and for a long time watched the 
antics of the various creatures, among which were 
a number of muskrats; these were about the 
size of the young beaver. Suddenly the peaceful 
picture was rudely disturbed. A goshawk ap- 
peared, flying low over the tops of the trees. 
Warning of danger was given by some jays, and 
instantly every animal sought the protection of 
the water, every animal except one — a small 
beaver that apparently thought the general rush 
to the water was part of a game, and he hesitated 
only for a moment, but it was almost long enough 
to prove fatal, for the hawk swooped down on the 
little fellow, who fortunately made a dive just in 
time to escape, and the hawk flew away to find 
some easier prey. For fully half an hour the pond 
was very quiet, but slowly the animals returned to 
their games and the boys watched until the sky 
became tinged with a golden glow, which warned 
them that it was time to go back to camp. 
During the afternoon a number of gulls had been 
seen flying inland. This gave Charlie an idea, 
and he suggested that it would be well to find out 
where they were going. 

“They have probably got ' nests somewhere 
near by and their eggs would be delicious eating,” 
he said. 



“ Progress became slower and slower, more painful and more 
laboured ” 



* 












































/ 





















































BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


3ii 

So the following morning they went in to the 
barren, and sure enough the gulls were there, 
but in a most inaccessible place — on an island 
in the middle of a large pond. 

“If only we had a boat,” Jack remarked, “we 
should be able to get all the eggs we want.” 

“Well, why not make one? There is plenty of 
birch bark, and it is easily peeled now,” Charlie 
replied. 

“Or better still,” said Jack, “let’s make a skin 
coracle. It would be much easier and would not 
take nearly so long. The eggs would all be 
hatched before we could finish a bark boat, while 
the coracle could be done in a few hours. All we 
need is a few strips of light wood which can be 
easily split now we have an axe, and then the 
caribou skins can be thoroughly soaked and 
stretched over the framework. It needn’t be 
very large.” 

The skins were put in soak as soon as they 
reached camp, and the next morning they were 
up very early much interested and excited at 
the work before them. The wood was quickly 
secured and one piece bent into an elliptical form. 
Then ribs were fastened to it with rawhide, 
another thin strip was laid lengthways to prevent 
the ribs moving. Then the skins were scraped 
clean of hair and the two edges rolled together 


ADVENTURES IN 


312 

so that the ridge thus formed went along the keel. 
To prevent this coming undone a thin strip of 
wood was attached on the outside. As soon as 
this was accomplished the skins were stretched 
tightly over the sides, lapping over the gunwale. 
The result was most satisfactory, and when the 
skins dried the coracle was very light. 

“What about a flooring ?” Jack asked, as he 
contemplated the frail craft. “Our feet would 
push the skin out of shape if we stood on it. ,, 

Charlie thought a moment, then replied: “Why 
not make a floor of bark? It would be light and 
quite strong, and will not take a moment to do/ 

A piece of bark was quickly peeled from a 
near-by tree and fastened into position. By the 
time the work was finished it was too late to try 
the boat, so they made a couple of paddles and 
then had supper and turned in. With the first 
gleam of daylight they were up, and after a hasty 
breakfast they started off, carrying the coracle. 
On reaching the gull pond the boat was put in the 
water. To the delight of the boys it floated very 
well, though slightly lopsided. The next thing 
was to get into the buoyant craft. This was no 
easy matter, as she objected to staying still, but 
moved away as soon as touched. At last, after 
many attempts, Jack embarked and sat down. 
This made the boat more steady, and Charlie got 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


3i3 

in without much trouble. Then they pushed off 
and paddled away from the shore. The boat 
carried them well but was most erratic, turning 
about like a tub, so that great care was necessary 
to gain a given point. 

However, after meandering about in every direc- 
tion they finally reached the island over which the 
gulls hovered, screaming their objection at the 
boat’s approach. So interested were the boys in 
watching the birds that they bumped into a tus- 
sock, and the next moment they found themselves 
floundering in the water while their coracle lay bot- 
tom up. The water was shallow, but the bottom 
was of soft, peaty substance that offered no foot- 
hold. There was nothing for it but to swim to the 
island and drag the boat with them. This was 
done as quickly as possible, for the water was bit- 
terly cold. 

The island was of spongy, floating bog, and it 
was with the greatest difficulty that a landing 
was made. Then the boat was dragged ashore 
and emptied, and the boys had a chance to look 
about, and they saw that the ground was well 
strewn with the many-coloured eggs. These 
they proceeded to collect, notwithstanding the 
noisy protestations of the gulls. Several dozen 
eggs were gathered and put close to the water’s 
edge. Then Jack got in and Charlie handed him 


ADVENTURES IN 


3*4 

the eggs, and then got in himself. With the 
greatest care they paddled ashore and landed 
after nearly capsizing several times. The boat was 
put in a sheltered place on shore and turned bot- 
tom up after which the boys, wet and rather cold, 
made their way as fast as possible back to camp. 
The wet buckskin clothes were most uncomfor- 
table and slimy, and they were glad to exchange 
them for their winter suits. 

“Now, let’s have some real slapjacks with eggs 
in them,” said Jack. 

“ Rather,” Charlie replied as he got things ready, 
“and we’ll have poached eggs; by Jove! but this 
will be a treat!” 

Seldom had they enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. 
Charlie suggested that they get as many eggs as 
they could and store them in the ice-house. So 
the next few days were spent collecting a large 
supply, not only from the old pond but from 
several others which were found in the vicinity. 

During all this time the boys had completely 
forgotten their beacon. Charlie remembered it 
one evening when they were talking of home, and 
the next day it was started again. Though 
thoroughly used to their simple life, the boys had 
a great longing to get home again. They even 
talked of trying to walk to the nearest settlement, 
wherever it might be, but the danger of. getting 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 315 

lost and the uncertainty of it all caused the plans 
to fall through each time. 

As the weather became warmer, the regular pest 
of black flies and mosquitoes began, and it was 
decided to leave the camp at Beaver Stream and 
make a new one near the sea where the wind swept 
the flies away. The old lean-to had fallen down 
during the winter storms, so a new one was made 
larger and much better in every way, as the axe 
enabled them to do work that could not be accom- 
plished with their simple knives. The time passed 
pleasantly enough between fishing and shooting 
fish, most of which were smoked, and taking trips 
inland. A few visits to the clam beds led to find- 
ing of only a few pearls, so after several days’ 
searching they gave it up as useless. 

One day early in July, while on a trip inland, 
they had the luck to find a wild goose’s nest in 
which the eggs were about to hatch. They 
determined to secure the young ones as soon as 
they were old enough to take care of themselves, 
but the old geese thought otherwise. They knew 
that they were discovered, and so as soon as the 
young could travel, they took them away from the 
barren, and though the boys searched carefully 
they were never able to find them again. 

Life during the months of summer was entirely 
devoid of hardships. It was indeed more like a 


3 i6 BEAVER STREAM CAMP 

prolonged holiday during which very little hard 
work had to be done. On the chance of having 
to remain in the place for another winter, certain 
preparations were made. A lot of bark was peeled 
and stacked ready for use. The hut was put in 
thorough repair and a new woodshed built, but 
beyond that there was little to be done except 
enjoy the simple life. Toward the end of July 
the fineness of the weather was disturbed by sev- 
eral days of dense fog, followed by a severe storm. 
With such force did the wind blow that the boys 
could scarcely stand on the cliffs to watch the 
magnificent breakers as they crashed against the 
rock-bound coast. Fascinated by the sight, the 
boys stayed till after the sun had set behind the 
banks of dull purple clouds, and then they returned 
to the lean-to and after many attempts succeeded 
in cooking some salmon for dinner. A large 
screen sheltered the fire to some extent from the 
force of the wdnd, but the smoke curled round and 
nearly blinded the boys — so that cooking was 
accomplished under the greatest difficulties. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE WRECK OF THE ENGLISH BARQUE “NORTHERN 
STAR”— THEY HELP TO SAVE THE' CREW— THE RE- 
TURN TO CIVILIZATION— HOME AGAIN 

D URING the night the storm increased in 
violence; thunder and lightning added to 
the terror of it. It was a fearful night 
for those on the sea. Sleep under the conditions 
was almost impossible. About midnight Jack 
started from his bed, for above the terrifying 
din of the elements came a sound as though a gun 
had been fired. 

“Did you hear that?” he cried, but Charlie, 
scarcely waiting to reply, jumped up, slipped on his 
moccasins, and threw his old oilskin over him. 

“Come along, there’s someone in trouble,” he 
shouted, as he hurried out of the lean-to, with 
Jack close at his heels. 

In the inky blackness of the night the two 
fought their way, stumbling over the irregularities 
of the ground, blown this'way and that at the mercy 
of the gale, and almost blinded by the driving rain. 
Holding on to each other, they slowly and pain- 
fully made their way to the coast, guided by the 
317 


3x8 ADVENTURES IN 

smell of smoke which blew from the beacon on 
the point. At last they reached the low wall 
which protected the smoke fire, and there they 
crouched and watched without knowing what 
they expected to see. Occasionally a strange 
sound was borne down by the wind, a sharp crack- 
ling sound as though shots were being fired in 
rapid succession. The ceaseless din of the wind 
and waves drowned the sound most of the time, 
and the boys wondered what it could be. 

In vain did their eyes try to pierce the wall of 
black that rose before them, when suddenly a bril- 
liant flash of lightning illuminated the seething 
sea and revealed a large ship in a mass of foam. 
In the brief moment no details could be made out, 
nothing but that it was a sailing ship wrecked on 
the rocks about half a mile from shore. Imme- 
diately following the lightning came a deafening 
crash of thunder, which drowned the boys’ voices 
as they tried to speak. As soon as it was passed a 
strange council of war was held. The two boys 
lay flat behind the wall and consulted. 

“If they try to land at this point, they’ll be 
dashed to pieces. What shall we do, Charlie?” 

“Let us try to make a fire at the mouth of the 
river where there are no rocks. We can carry some 
fire from this beacon, and this birch bark that we 
have stored behind the wall will make a blaze.” 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


3i9 


“Come along and let’s try it,” Jack replied. 

Then they tore up the smoke lire and wrapped 
up some burning embers in a piece of bark and 
ran with this to the river mouth. As soon as 
the bark was opened the wind caught the embers 
and instantly carried them away, so Jack ran 
back for some more, and this time the bark was 
lighted and its flickering yellow blaze gave a 
strange glare, which made the surrounding dark- 
ness seem even blacker than before. The bark 
burned quickly and more had to be procured. 
Then some large pieces were stuck into a split 
pole, and this torch the boys held high and waved 
back and forth in hopes of attracting attention. 
There had been several short flashes of lightning, 
but for a long time none of sufficient brilliancy to 
enable the boys to see more than the mere outline 
of the ship. At last a double flash lighted up the 
scene, and something which looked like a white 
boat was seen to be coming toward the river. 
More bark was added to the torch, and the boys 
waited anxiously for another glimpse of the boat. 

The tension was frightful, each second seemed an 
hour, and the darkness more and more impene- 
trable; anything might be happening out there 
in the raging sea from which the spume was lifted 
by the wind and carried inland like giant snow- 
flakes. If only they could see something the 


3 20 


ADVENTURES IN 


feeling of impotence would not have been so 
appalling, but nothing lasts forever, and finally 
the noise of oars could be distinguished. At first 
this was uncertain, but gradually it became more 
and more clear, and at last in the glow of the 
flaming torch a boat was seen coming toward 
the shore, a boat deep laden, driven by wind and 
oars through the angry waves which, baulked of 
their prey, were trying to break into the boat 
and sink it within sight of a landing; but that 
was not to be, and the next moment she grounded 
close to where the boys were standing, and the 
men, eight in number, leaped into the water and 
dragged the water-filled boat to the beach. 

Charlie and Jack helped to secure the battered 
craft, and then the men crowded round and wanted 
to know where they were and how it was the boys 
had thought of steering them to the landing. 
Questions were asked and answered in a breathless 
way, everyone talking at once, while the storm 
carried the voices away. 

It appeared that the vessel was an English 
barque called the Northern Star, which during the 
dense fog had lost her bearings and been driven 
ashore after having lost both her main and miz- 
zen masts. The crew of fifteen had left in two 
boats, so the question was what had become of 
the other seven, which included the captain. It 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


321 

was quite possible that they had seen the sparks 
from the beacon fire when the boys had taken the 
embers, and had steered for the shore near the 
point. 

Two of the men stayed at the landing with the 
torch to guide the boat should it attempt coming 
to the river, while the boys with the other men 
made a couple of new torches and proceeded to 
examine the coast. On reaching the farther side 
of the point three men were seen approaching. 
Gaunt figures they were, in dripping, wind-blown 
clothes which clung tightly to their limbs on one 
side. Hatless and with beards and hair flying 
in the air, they presented a weird spectacle as 
they came into the fitful glow of the torches. Of 
the three, one was the captain, Bower by name, 
a man of some fifty years of age, tall and sturdy; 
with him was the cook and a seaman. 

It was almost impossible to carry on any conver- 
sation owing to the bellowing of the storm, but 
enough was said to show that their boat had been 
driven on to the rocks and smashed, and three of 
the men had been pretty badly bruised, so one of 
the uninjured had stayed with them while the 
captain and the other two had gone to look for 
help and had seen the torch. 

The first thing the captain wished to do was to 
take the injured men to some shelter, so the boys 


ADVENTURES IN 


322 

suggested the lean-to. The next thing was to find 
the men, for in coming toward the torch-light the 
three had travelled farther than they were aware, 
and it was some time before the sailors were discov- 
ered. Two of them could walk if helped, but the 
third had to be carried. On the way to camp, Jack 
ran back and brought the two that had been left 
with the boat. By this time day was beginning 
to dawn. A faint, cold gray light showed the 
land in a dim, intangible way, and the procession 
of men wending its way over the rough ground and 
carrying the wounded, and lighted by the flickering 
torch, seemed scarcely real. 

As soon as camp was reached, a roaring fire was 
at once started and the shivering men crowded 
round it, while the boys got several salmon from 
the smoke-house and hung them on spits to roast. 
With the coming of daylight the force of the 
wind rapidly diminished, and the boys were able 
to see their new companions, who in turn were 
greatly interested to hear of the strange life led by 
their rescuers. It seemed to them almost like a 
fairy tale that the two young fellows could have 
lived and even flourished, for they looked the very 
picture of health, in such a wild, bleak country. 

‘Til tell you what it is, my boys,” the captain 
said, when they had given a brief outline of their 
story. “There’!! be some happy people in Boston 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


323 

when you turn up. Now the question is, where 
are we? Northwestern Newfoundland, I should 
judge, for I was trying to get through the Strait of 
Belle Isle when this wretched storm caught us. 
Well, I’ve lost the poor old ship, but fortunately 
she was insured. When I took out the policy to 
cover war risks, I did hate to pay out so much good 
money. ,, 

“You say war risks/’ Charlie and Jack inter- 
rupted almost together, “is there a war?” 

“War, war?” the old captain repeated slowly. 
“What, didn’t you know it! Why, good Lord! 
the whole blessed world is fighting. Millions and 
millions of fine men have been literally slaugh- 
tered, and all on account of that mad German 
Kaiser who thought he’d own every nation on 
earth; but you’ll hear plenty of that subject when 
you get home, which brings me back to the ques- 
tion of how we shall manage it. There’s the boat 
that landed in the river which is, I hope, quite 
sound. Now if we pick good weather, we can 
make our way down the coast until we strike a 
port, after which all will be easy. How about 
grub if we have to stay here a week or two?” 

“Oh, that’ll be right enough,” Charlie replied. 
“We have enough meat to last us all several weeks, 
and then w T e can always get fish, but there is not a 
great deal of flour, so we shall have to go easy on 


324 


ADVENTURES IN 


that. Anyhow, we won’t starve, and we can fix 
up a large lean-to for all hands to sleep in, so we 
shall be quite comfortable. But tell me about the 
war. Who is winning? and is America in it?” 

“Well, who is winning is a hard question to an- 
swer. At the very first, Germany had things her 
own way and it looked jolly black for us all, but 
we and the French turned her back when she was 
almost on top of Paris, and since then we have 
a little more than held her on the eastern side of 
France, and we still hold a small piece of Belgium. 
In the east, Russia has won and lost and is now 
holding her own, and there is every prospect of 
her giving the Germans and Austrians a good deal 
more than they want. Turkey has given us a 
bad time and we have failed to get through the 
Dardanelles, and have lost a lot of men and several 
ships there. Italy is fighting the Austrians and is 
going ahead slowly.”* 

“What about the Navy? Have there been any 
big engagements?” Jack asked. 

“The British navy has done splendid work, but 
there have been no big engagements, as the Ger- 
mans will not come out of Kiel and we have de- 
stroyed all their ships everywhere else. Subma- 
rines have been the most important trouble, for 
they have sunk a lot of our merchant vessels, in- 


*This was the position of the war during the early summer of 1915. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


325 

eluding the Lusitania , which was full of passengers, 
and the brutes gave them no chance of escape; 
but they have been paying dearly for their crimes. ,, 

“Have aeroplanes and airships done as much as 
was expected ?” asked Charlie. 

“Yes, far more. The aeroplanes have been 
marvellous, and have done far more than was 
ever expected; but the much-talked-of Zeppelins, 
well, they have been little better than useless. 
Several times they have come over to England 
and killed a few harmless people and smashed an 
odd building here and there, but beyond that they 
have not justified their existence.” 

“I suppose England is in a frightfully excited 
condition, isn’t it?” 

“No, not at all. You would scarcely know that 
there was any war, except that at night no lights 
are allowed, and of course you see no end of 
soldiers, for our Army now numbers several mil- 
lions.” 

“Just think of it! Nearly all the world at war 
and we calmly up here knowing nothing about it, 
Jack. What a lot there will be for us to hear 
about. It makes me more than ever anxious to 
get home. I say, Captain, how long do you sup- 
pose it will take us to reach some port?” 

“My dear boy, how can I tell, as I don’t know 
where we are? but I don’t believe it can be more 


326 A ADVENTURES IN 

than sixty or seventy miles, and we could do that 
in a couple of days if the weather is good. Let's 
go and have a look at the boat and see that she is 
safe, and then we can have a walk inland and see 
some of your country. ,, 

The captain with the boys and a couple of men 
went down the river and found that the boat was 
little the worse for the storm. They baled her 
out and hauled her well up on the beach. Then 
Charlie suggested that it would be well to go to the 
ice-house to get a supply of meat. So all the party 
except the three injured men started inland, pass- 
ing by the camp at Beaver Stream, w 7 here the cap- 
tain was greatly interested to see how well the 
boys had arranged things. He was also much 
surprised at the natural ice cave in which the meat 
was stored. 

“You boys certainly ought to be congratulated 
on having done so well," the captain remarked. 
“You must have had a very good and sensible 
bringing-up, or you would never have been able 
to take advantage of the very slender resources of 
the country as you have done." 

The boys told him how they had first come to 
Newfoundland and had been shown many things 
which had proved of the utmost value to them in 
their exile, and how they had been always taught 
to keep their eyes open and notice things. 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


327 

Loaded with a good supply of meat, the party 
returned to the camp, arriving shortly before sun- 
set. A rough lean-to was quickly made and a 
hearty meal prepared. During the following 
three days the weather continued unsettled, but 
on the fourth day the captain decided that there 
was a prospect of a few fine days, so they made 
their preparations to start early the next morning. 
The boat was well supplied with provisions, and 
the boys took all their trophies and the skins and 
pearls they had collected and stowed them safely 
in the boat. With the first gleam of dawn all 
were up, and immediately after breakfast they 
launched the boat and the boys bade farewell to 
their home in the northern wilds with mixed feel- 
ings of regret and pleasure, for they had really 
enjoyed their year of solitude; but the prospect 
of seeing their home and family filled them with a 
happy excitement that can be readily understood. 

Each stroke of the oars took them farther from 
thecamp,and gradually the mouth of the river faded 
away in the distance as they made their way along 
the coast. Fine weather favoured them, and the 
boat moved through the smooth water at the rate 
of fully three miles an hour. Late in the after- 
noon a landing was made in a small cove into 
which flowed a narrow stream. A rough shelter 
camp was soon made, and a simple meal prepared, 


ADVENTURES IN 


328 

after which enough sea trout were caught to fur- 
nish the next morning’s breakfast. 

During the night a stiff southwesterly wind 
rose, so that no attempt could be made to leave; 
but by the following morning the wind had shifted 
round to the northeast and they were able to pro- 
ceed on their journey with a fair wind under the 
lee of the land. Shortly after midday a vessel 
was sighted. She proved to be a small fishing 
schooner. They rowed alongside and were told 
that the entrance to the Bay of Islands was about 
thirty-five miles to the south. The men on the 
schooner were of course much interested to hear of 
the party’s experience, and insisted on giving them 
some hot tea and hard tack, as well as some fresh 
cod. The boys thought it would be a good idea 
to get the vessel to take them to Bay of Islands 
and suggested it to Captain Bower. There was 
the matter of payment. King was the chief owner 
of the schooner and they put the question to him, 
saying that the money would be sent immediately 
they arrived home. He, in turn, asked the other 
members of the crew, and all agreed to Jack’s 
proposal, which was that they should take them 
to Bay of Islands’ entrance and that there should 
be no question of any definite sum of money, but 
that if, when they reached home, they felt like send- 
ing a small present, it would be most acceptable, 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


329 


as they were all poor men. This was most satis- 
factory. The boat was taken in tow, and the 
schooner’s head turned south, and they were soon 
bounding along at a good speed. 

The crew of the schooner were sitting on deck 
listening to the boys’ account of their life, when 
Charlie spoke of the old trapper. 

‘Til bet that’s poor old Uncle Jim,” said one 
of the men named Jack Pennell. “He went up 
north somewhere for silver foxes and was never 
heard of again. His brother, who was with him, 
was found smashed up in an ice jam. Did you 
say that you found a lot of silver fox skins in 
the hut?” 

“Yes,” Charlie replied, “and I have them here. 
Perhaps you will be able to help me by taking 
them to those who ought to have them. Had 
either of your uncles any family?” 

“Yes, sir. Their wives is both alive now, and 
their boys is taking care of them, and I tell you, 
sir, if them skins is worth a few hundred dollars 
it will be a godsend, for they’re awful hard up. 
The war has made things very bad for them what 
trusts to what they makes from the sports in the 
fishin’ and huntin’ season, for there ain’t been any 
sportin’ parties here this year.” 

“Where do these cousins of yours live?” Charlie 
asked. 


330 


ADVENTURES IN 


“Just across the water from Bay of Islands. 
Would you let me see the skins ?” 

“Certainly, and perhaps you can give us some 
idea of what they are worth.” 

The bundle of skins was brought up from the 
boat, and those which had been found in the hut 
were opened. The men crowded round to see 
them, and Jack Pennell carefully examined the 
silvers. Picking out an extra good one, he said 
it should be worth pretty nearly one thousand 
dollars, and the others from one hundred to about 
six or seven hundred. 

“It’s a fortune,” he remarked, in his quiet New- 
foundland way, “and you two will be blessed for 
ever and ever for what you have done. I say, 
Captain,” he said, addressing King, “we must 
take them all the way to Bay of Islands. It 
won’t do to risk this fortune in no small boat. 
You won’t mind, will you? You’ll get well paid 
for it by my cousins, for they’ll have so much 
they won’t know what to do with it. You’ll do 
it, won’t you?” 

“Of course I will,” he replied. “I made up my 
mind to that the moment I set eyes on them skins.” 

The journey to Bay of Islands was accomplished 
without incident, and the following morning 
anchor was dropped near the town. As soon as 
the sails had been stowed all hands made for 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


33i 

shore. With astonishing rapidity the news of 
the arrival of the shipwrecked crew and the two 
boys spread throughout the small town. Captain 
Bower made formal report of the loss of his vessel, 
and the boys went to the local store to try to ar- 
range for the money necessary to take them home. 
By depositing one of the silver fox skins as security, 
they obtained enough money for the fare and 
for some respectable clothes. As it was several 
hours before the train to Port-aux-basques was 
due, they went across the bay with Pennell, taking 
the fox skins with them. The surprise of the 
old people was very great. They could scarcely 
believe what the boys told them, and when the 
valuable skins were handed to them they com- 
pletely broke down. It seemed, as they said, 
a fine present from the dead, a present which meant 
that they could end their days in peace and plenty, 
for the sale of the skins would be carefully man- 
aged by the sons, who were well versed in such 
things and knew the tricks of the fur trader. 

With the blessings of everyone in the vicinity — 
for good fortune, like sorrow, is shared by all mem- 
bers of these small primitive communities — the 
boys took their departure, and soon reached the 
station where they had to await their train. In 
due course it arrived, and they bade farewell to 
Captain Bower and his men and to the crew of the 


332 


ADVENTURES IN 


schooner, and waved hands to half the town who 
had come to see them off. How strange it was to 
be on a train again, and to sit down to a properly 
cooked meal. They ordered nearly everything on 
the bill of fare, for, as they said, they had much 
time to make up. They decided that it would 
be best to wire home the following evening, so 
that the family would have only one night to wait 
after knowing of their coming. 

What a surprise that wire would be! It was 
even a question whether it would not be more fun 
simply to walk in unannounced, but that might 
give Mrs. Sylvester a shock, so the wire was decided 
on and sent from St. John the night before they 
were due to arrive in Boston. 

The following morning, after leaving Portland, 
they were reading the Boston paper when the 
following article caught Jack’s eye: 


no indication 
had decided 
eatures of his 
they govern- 
hirn to move 
but the gaso- 
until he had 
been work- 
source as to 
ttention pro- 
y and navy 
against those 
shire, whose 
o from coali- 
with the one 
communica- 
n who drive 
cording to a 


THE DEAD 

COME TO LIFE 

Strange Adventures ol Two Boys 
in Newfoundland 

News has just reached us from Newfoundland of the 
extraordinary adventures of Charlie Mason and Jack 
Sylvester, who, it will be remembered, were believed to 
have been lost last year while after tuna. It appears 
that they were washed ashore in an uninhabited region 
of Newfoundland, and though without arms or provi- 
sions have managed to keep themselves alive for a year, 
thanks to their knowledge of woodcraft. As they are 
now on their way to their home in Boston, we hope to be 
able to give our readers a full account of their adven- 
tures at an early date. 


cation the p 
even upon at 
policy. Ther 
waited patie 
respect to th 
dent has ben 
the problem 
tion from m 
come conditi 
to have been 
come that of 
remained to 
laid before tr 
to be certain 
tails which h 
The first n 
ably be the o 
tural aid ur 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


333 

“Well, what do you think of that, Charlie?” 

‘Til be hanged! how on earth do you suppose 
that got there. Some chap from Bay of Islands 
must have sent it. I wonder if your father and 
mother have seen it ? ” Charlie replied. 

Mr. and Mrs. Sylvester and Evelyn, with Mr. 
Pratt, were standing in the Boston station waiting 
anxiously for the arrival of the St. John express. 
Already the train was ten minutes late. In her 
excitement, Mrs. Sylvester could scarcely keep 
back her tears, and she clutched her husband’s 
arm nervously as she asked for the hundredth 
time if he thought there had been any accident. 
It seemed as though the time would never pass, 
when suddenly a porter who knew them by sight 
said that the train was signalled and would be in 
immediately. 

“Which platform?” 

“No. 7, ma’am.” 

They rushed through the gate just as the train 
came in sight. In breathless silence each carriage 
was scrutinized. 

“There they are!” cried Evelyn, and without 
waiting she bounded forward toward the two 
browned boys who were coming out of the Pull- 
man sleeper. The other passengers must have 
wondered at the warmth of the meeting. Mrs. 
Sylvester could scarcely speak, so much did she 


ADVENTURES IN 


334 

tremble, while even the men found it hard to con- 
trol themselves. 

“ Where’s your luggage, Jack?” asked Mr. 
Pratt, laughing, as he saw the bundle of furs, snow- 
shoes, and bows. 

Quickly the whole party got into a car and were 
home in a few minutes. Breakfast was ready, 
but no one cared to eat. They were far too 
excited and they all talked at once. After the 
attempt at the meal, the skins were spread out and 
the pearls were displayed, to the particular delight 
of Evelyn who could scarcely believe her eyes, as 
she handled each one in turn. The whole morning 
was spent in reciting the adventures from the 
moment the launch had broken down. 

“Do tell us about the tuna, Dad, and just what 
happened. We were so busy with the launch 
that we saw scarcely anything except that you 
were being towed at a wonderful speed,” said 
Jack, appealing to his father. 

“Well boys, you saw the beginning of the fun 
and how that fish took hold with remarkable 
vigour, and how in a very short time I had all I 
could do to hang on to the rod, which was nearly 
pulled out of my hands. My mind was so en- 
tirely devoted to the fish, and I was so excited 
that I don’t believe it ever occurred to me to give a 
thought to you two in the launch. The strength 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


335 

of that monster was really wonderful, and I could 
do nothing to check him in his mad rush. It was 
not long before my arms began to ache so that I 
could scarcely stand the strain. During the first 
frantic rush most of the line had been taken out, 
but it was fully an hour before there was the 
slightest chance of recovering any of it, and then 
it was only by the hardest sort of work that I 
managed to reel in a few feet at a time when the 
fish condescended occasionally to ease up on his 
speed. While the weather remained calm I be- 
lieved that I was having about all I could manage, 
but you remember how the wind sprang up after 
a couple of hours or so, and the sea became choppy 
in a very short time, well, you have no idea what 
that did to me. The jerking of the boat as the 
waves struck it nearly tore the rod from my 
hands, and it was practically impossible to reel 
in any line, as my whole energy was devoted to 
keeping control of the rod; my back ached to a 
painful degree, and my hands became numbed, 
but still the beastly fish went on as though bound 
for the other end of the world. The stronger the 
wind blew and the rougher grew the sea, the harder 
did that brute pull. At times he would circle 
around in a most annoying way, then again he 
would sound and like a lump of lead sink with 
incredible speed; this was most disconcerting, 


ADVENTURES IN 


33 <$ 

as I simply had to let the line go out, then as he 
rose I had to work with frantic speed to regain 
what little I could of it. Altogether it was ex- 
citing to a terrifying degree. After several 
hours of this sort of thing, with the weather grow- 
ing steadily worse all the time, I looked round to 
see what had become of you, but there was abso- 
lutely no sign of you and the launch, then I 
searched the horizon for the yacht and finally 
made her out so far away that she looked like a 
mere speck. I can assure you I cussed that fish 
and still more my own folly in not having paid 
attention to the advice of the captain when he 
warned us about the weather before we started 
out that morning. You have no idea what I 
went through that fateful day. It was quite 
evident that a severe storm had begun, and know- 
ing the reputation which the Newfoundland region 
has for bad weather I realized most painfully that 
the situation was very serious. Of course had I 
been sensible I should have cut loose from the fish 
and returned to the yacht and then gone in search 
of you, but, I am ashamed to say, I was so in- 
tensely interested in trying to land that tuna that, 
for some time at least, I did not fully appreciate 
the danger you were in. In some way I imagined 
you had gone back to the yacht, and that I should 
soon be able to join you and we would all celebrate 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


337 

the great victory. Tom Anderson, who you may 
remember was a very quiet sort of chap, was 
greatly interested in the fish, but he said not a 
word until I asked his advice. He seemed most 
anxious to see the fish safely landed, but he did 
say that he thought with the bad weather coming 
we ought to get back to the yacht as soon as 
possible. I regret to say I disregarded his sound 
advice. As a matter of fact, I was almost incapable 
of thinking, my mind was on that fish while I was 
going through the greatest physical strain I have 
ever endured. With the ever-increasing rough- 
ness of the sea there was always the chance of 
being swamped in our cockleshell of a boat. 
Tom was almost as busy with the steering and 
bailing as I was with the rod, and I must say the 
way in which he handled that boat was marvellous. 
For hours we continued the fight; sometimes the 
tuna came near the surface, and when he did so he 
left a trail such as a torpedo would make, but 
most of the time he kept well below the surface 
and went at a fairly even speed of about three 
or four miles an hour. In the meantime the yacht 
had evidently sighted us; unfortunately the wind 
was against her and she had to beat directly to 
windward so* that her approach was very slow, 
sometimes, indeed, it seemed as though we were 
getting farther away from her. It must have 


338 ADVENTURES IN 

been about three o’clock before the fish began to 
show any signs of weariness. At intervals he 
would slow down to a speed of less than a mile an 
hour, and several times he turned and came 
toward us, when this happened I had to reel in 
line for all I was worth. Each time he did this I 
fondly believed the end was near and wondered 
how we were to do the killing, when the powerful 
creature would dash off* with renewed vigour 
in a most discouraging way. Owing to the noisy 
howling of the wind and the slapping of the waves 
against the sides of the boat conversation was 
almost impossible, the words would literally be 
blown away as they left one’s mouth, so I was forced 
to give up any attempt at discussing what we 
should do. In my own mind I thought it would 
be quite impossible to use the gaff, owing to the 
roughness of the water, and I determined to play 
the fish till it was about dead and then put a bullet 
in his head to make sure before securing him with 
harpoon. While I was working out this plan the 
tuna made a sudden rush toward the boat and 
was passing about twenty yards to one side 
when I heard a shot fired; the sound was followed 
immediately by a terrific turmoil as though there 
had been an explosion in the water, ‘then came a 
frantic tug at the rod and then the strain ceased 
with painful suddenness and the line drifted limply 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


339 

down wind. That was the end of the tuna and 
I did not know whether to be sorry or glad. I 
simply collapsed, while Tom quickly got control 
of the boat which had broached beam-on to the 
sea and would have been swamped but for his 
instant action in swinging the boat stern on to 
the angry waves.” 

“What had happened ?” called out Jack and 
Charlie almost in one breath. 

“Simply this: Tom, thinking that we 'might 
not get a better opportunity, had fired at the fish 
in the hopes of killing it, but evidently the shot 
had not been well placed, at least it had not 
proved immediately fatal, and it was the death 
struggles of the mighty beast that had smashed 
the line.” 

“How big was the fish, do you suppose?” Jack 
asked. 

“I don’t know, but Tom declared he must have 
weighed pretty close to a thousand pounds.” 

“Well, Dad, I think he must have weighed 
fully that, at least that was what Charlie and I 
guessed.” 

“What do you mean?” Mr. Sylvester asked 
with a surprised look in his eyes. “How in the 
world could you tell when you were never near 
enough to even see the beast?” 

“Oh, we know lots of things that would surprise 


ADVENTURES IN 


340 

you,” Charlie laughingly replied as he whispered 
something in Jack’s ear. 

Jack quickly left the room and returned a mo- 
ment later carrying a piece of tuna skin which he 
handed to his father, with the remark: “There’s 
a bit of your tuna’s skin, Dad.” 

Mr. Sylvester looked thoroughly bewildered and 
could scarcely believe the story which the boys 
told of how the tuna had been washed ashore 
almost at their very feet. 

“Well, I’ll be hanged ! Such a coincidence seems 
incredible, but after all the same wind and sea 
that caused you to drift to that part of the coast 
also took the tuna, so I suppose it is not so very 
wonderful after all.” 

“What happened to you after you broke loose?” 
Charlie asked. 

“We drifted with the wind straight down to the 
yacht and after considerable difficulty managed 
to get on board while she lay-to and then until 
dark we cruised about in search of the launch, 
but finally the captain declared it unsafe to remain 
out in the open sea, as the storm was steadily 
increasing in violence. So we ran down till we 
were under the lee of the Quebec coast, and re- 
mained there until the storm abated, when with 
small hope of success we once more cruised about 
in search of the launch. It w^as the longest and 


BEAVER STREAM CAMP 


34i 

bitterest week of my life. At the end of it we 
returned to North Sidney.” 

“What I went through you have no idea, boys,” 
said Mr. Sylvester. “What was I to tell your 
mother? There seemed so little chance that you 
could have escaped. Yet I dared not say that 
there was no hope. I simply dreaded getting 
home.” 

“And you can imagine what I thought when I 
saw him coming in all alone,” said Mrs. Sylvester. 
“Of course, I knew that something dreadful had 
happened, but when he said that you were both 
lost, I thought I should die. However, here you 
are, thank God.” 

“You see, Mother,” Charlie added, “we were 
not lost, only mislaid.” 


THE END 


94.88 238 



THE COUNTRY LIFE PREgS 
GARDEN CITY, N. Y. 


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